


The Castle of Bones

by Friends_Write



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friends_Write/pseuds/Friends_Write
Summary: This has been a nightmare to get posted. Attempt number 4.This is a collaboration between two friends - will be a novel-length fic, hopefully with regular updatesLoosely based on the world introduced in SJ Maas's books, otherwise we tried to keep everything original.In this world, if a fae bites a female (of any species) he claims her as his forever. His scent will cover hers forever, and he will develop a bond - a link - to her, making him able to track her with accuracy and read her emotional state. If she tries to escape or break the confines of the bond by seeking another mate, she will be returned to the one who bit her. Humans, demifae and the Greater Fae all coexist in a hierarchical society, in which humans take up the lower classes...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~CH1 by Anna~
> 
> Important to consider: some concepts may be foreign to a modern reader. Please note this is a very sexist and traditionalist society.
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

“You could have been more careful.” Alexus’s mother sighed impatiently before brushing past her, glaring with disgust at the remains of a once large and multicoloured ceramic pot. Throughout Alexus’s life the expression had become familiar - it was the expression her mother wore whenever she walked into her field of sight.  
“Clean this mess up” she snapped again, waving a dismissive hand towards the shattered remains, not bothering a glance back at her daughter as she stormed out into the front garden and began tearing up parsley with the demeanour of a woman who was imagining the plant to be a violent opponent. Alexus should have been more careful today - her mother was always agitated on Fridays. She’d been studying her pattern of behaviour for years, and the peculiar routine had occurred to her twelve years previously - on her sixth birthday. When her mother forced her to scrub at the iron gates until her hands were raw after she painted them a bright magenta pink with the paint her father had gifted to her.   
Those same front gates were now painted a dull shade of golden brown, exactly the same as the gates of other cottages surrounding the Littlewood’s house. The same colour every human house was in the village. Only a few steps away was the town square, which was a silent marker of the bordering between human territory and the domain of the demifae. North of the town square the houses came in much greater variety - it was rumoured among the humans that there was a house with a shining silver roof there. No one got far enough in to check - one poor man was returned back to his family in pieces by the Soldiers last month. They say they never found his head. This was only Vienne - they say in the Capital, where most of the greater Fae lived, where the human population were either selling their bodies or selling their dignity, human deaths were far more viciously executed. These were the rules Alexus learned since she could toddle: Stay out of mummy’s way. Be a good girl. You can read, but don't do it too much in public. Don't sing, you have a terrible voice. Don't dance, you have no grace. Help Elodie make her new dress. Make Elodie a nice lunch for today’s picnic. No, you're not allowed the orange, that’s for father. Don’t go past the clock tower in the town square. Avoid going out alone. You can’t. You must not. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Her saving grace were her nights - when her parents and her sister were asleep. She could slip out of the window and climb the rooftops to the stable, where she would take her black stallion out and disappear into the wilderness that lies beyond the constricting town walls. Where she could let her hair out of it’s long braid and let the dark honey locks gleam under the moonlight. Where no one watched her waltz to a tune she remembered a busker playing on the violin that day in town. Where she could watch the forest look more alive than it could ever do under the ruthless light daytime brought on. Alexus never understood everyone’s obsession with morning. The sun gives light, but it also casts a shadow. It’s rays brought on a cascade of demands and the constant threat of being seen - reading near a window, writing a quick note on the porch, counting the number of coins left in father’s money bag. Someone could see, someone could speak. Someone could ruin her chances of getting married. The last concern was more her mother’s - an easy way of getting rid of the parasite that seemed to ruin her otherwise ideal life. When the parasite is gone, her darling Elodie can flourish to her full potential. Alexus started hastily picking up the ceramic shards of the broken pot before she allowed her temper to rise. Her younger sister, the gem and pride of the family. The prettier one. The graceful one. The brilliantly uneducated, flirty social butterfly of a girl who was the incarnation of all that is good in the world. Alexus loved her - everyone did. Elodie had a natural way of making everyone feel special. Large blue eyes and a delicate, heart shaped face rimmed by a wave of golden hair, lips you could hear boys whisper about when she walked through town. Alexus was the dark side of the coin - Darker, Longer hair that was usually tied back for practical purposes. Hazel eyes with peculiar specks of bright green. A narrower face with much more obvious cheekbones. She was tall. For a girl. She was taller than most men in town. But what was worse was the delicate point of her ears - too different from the rounded quality of a human’s. Combined with her wit and height, it earned her a lot of problems since she was a child. Everyone had heard the rumours - Fey heritage. The brand that made you an outcast in human society. It had taken years for the villagers to settle down. She was a human child - she exhibited no abnormal strength or speed. Her only peculiarity was her love of books and her curiosity, both of which her mother had gone to great lengths to eradicate. Unsuccessfully. Alexus gathered the broken shards in her apron and with a quick, practiced glance towards the direction her mother disappeared in, sped up two flights of rickety stairs to the attic - once a large open space, but one that had been remade into two separate rooms with Alexus’s attempts to improve and renovate the cottage. In the end, the only thing that gave her and Elodie their own space was four bookshelves that stood in pairs, back to back, in the middle of the room - effectively dividing it in half. Alexus’s bookshelves, unsurprisingly, were the only two that actually held any number of books - a pitiful selection of books she had managed to scrape money for or borrow. Elodie used hers to store ribbons, jewellery and make up. Alexus’s side of the room, admittedly, looked like a raided artist’s studio - notes and sketches were either piled in semineat stacks along any surface that did not include the makeshift bed, or were pinned to the wall. Broken rims of wheels and garden tools were propped along the wall. An ornamented wooden clock was pinned up to the wall above the bed- a prized possession, since she had managed to make one herself with materials at hand by following a complicated instruction manual. Crossing the short distance to what she liked to consider her working table, she quickly emptied her apron pockets into a large jug that contained similar broken ceramic shards. She detested wasting things - over two years of accidents she had collected enough ceramic pieces to reconstruct the roof of the stable, and possibly have enough left to create a colourful border for the vegetable patch. If mother would allow the whim of personalising the miniature farm situated in front of their shabby cottage. She didn't turn when she heard the front door click open - it wasn’t hard to deduce who had returned home.   
“ Alexus?” A small voice called up the stairs - unmistakably Elodie’s.   
“ Hi,” Alexus turned to look at her sister, who was standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at Alexus with bright eyes. “I didn't know you were going to be back so early” She had gone out to town with some friends a few hours ago. To go ‘Catching Husbands’ they called it. A mesmerising activity, Alexus was assured.   
“ Not many people out today. We had a lovely time, but everyone got bored quite quickly” She paused to turn her head to the side, as if confused, and looked at Alexus as if noticing every detail of her face for the first time. She reminded Alexus of those porcelain dolls that were always too expensive to buy in the toy shop in town - the ones with a permanent look of innocent surprise on their face.   
“You look tired. Do you want me to make dinner today?” Never an offer to help with anything else. Elodie saw it as her sacred duty to solely help in chores around the house that were viewed as being appropriate for a lady and a future wife. Any mention of hard manual labour sent her into a genuine panic as she battled with disgust at the idea of strenuous exercise and an innocent desire to help everyone.  
“That would be very helpful,” Alexus allowed a small smile to cross her lips. “thank you.” It was almost comical the way Elodie’s face lit up at her agreement to accept help.   
“I should probably change” the younger sister eyed her pristine long pale pink dress with a critical eye, probably assessing the possibilities of it being spoiled by a stray drop of oil or grease. Alexus pretended to not notice the moment’s hesitation before her sister delicately ascended the staircase and entered her part of their attic. Whilst her array of dresses was not lacking decoration or colour, they were all practical - her wardrobe did not contain any dresses or skirts that passed her ankles. She relied on her breeches she wore every day to make up for the lack of fabric covering her legs. All of her clothes she made herself, bearing in mind her workload and attempting to settle her inner artist by choosing fabrics with patterns, where and when possible, In a half hearted attempt to change and improve her monotone daily routine. Elodie’s dresses were made with a separate purpose entirely - they hugged and rounded her already perfect figure and made her look more like a deity than a village girl. The colours and styles of her dresses were all up to fashion standards, and there was never a hint of a crease or dirt on her person or on any of her clothes. She was always perfect. A lifetime of living in simplicity hand’t stripped her desire to look lovely. Alexus turned to retrace Elodie’s steps down to the first floor, praying to whatever gods would listen that her mother was still in the garden. The gods must have considered her devastation to be an extremely amusing sight, as the minute she set foot on the base of the staircase, her mother walked back into the cramped dining area. She looked positively furious at the fact that Alexus dared exist in the same room as her.  
“Have you made dinner yet?” She snarled, eyeing the empty table with calculated disapproval.   
“Elodie volunteered to.” Alexus preferred to keep her interactions with her mother as formal and as brief as possible. Mother nodded at that, her face softening at the mention of her youngest daughter.   
“ I need you to clean out the stable before father gets home. Repair the clock in the kitchen as well - the damned thing hadn't been working for two days now” Without a second glance, her mother moved towards the kitchen and started taking the pots and pans out, lovingly laying them out for Elodie to find when she comes downstairs. Alexus pretended to ignore her mother’s actions, especially those done to show obvious favouritism towards Elodie : there was little she could do, and dwelling on the thought behind these actions made her vulnerable to a ready arsenal of insults and jeers. She would not cry. Never in front of her mother. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the front door squeak open, admitting in a broad - shouldered man with a dark, neatly trimmed beard and dark brown hair. He was handsome, for his age, his sky blue eyes brilliantly contrasting with his tan skin. It had always been a joke between Alexus, who had the complexion that was disturbingly similar to that of a piece of clear white parchment despite her prolonged exposure to sun every day, and her father, who spent most of his days out in the market. She was the colourless moon to his bright sun.  
“ You're home early” Alexus hugged him in greeting, feeling a warmth wrap around her heart when she felt him hug her back with genuine love she could so rarely experience.   
“ Whole stock’s been sold out before noon. I stayed ’til it got dark and headed back” His voice came in a deep rumble that, with years of careful attention, Alexus determined to be his way of talking when he was tired. Alexus disentangled herself from the hug, murmuring an explanation of why she was going to be busy for the next hour as Elodie appeared at the base of the staircase, tying a pristine white apron to her skirt. Her twisted into a beautifully innocent beam and she quickly pecked her father on the cheek before brushing delicately past Alexus, heading to the kitchen with the purpose of someone about to conduct an incredibly important task. Alexus gave a small sigh, attempting to feel at least a bit glad at the help Elodie did offer, and moved past her father to the front door, heading out for the shed-like building situated at the front of the vegetable patch which served as the family’s stable for their two horses - a beautiful black stallion Alexus named Albus and Tori, a solidly built brown mare her father used to travel to a nearby village’s market to sell his produce, as well as some drawings or inventions Alexus volunteered to give, although he was always careful about selling them. Don't want people asking me how I got hold of them. I ain’t understanding in mechanics, and I can’t tell them my own daughter’s smarter than me! He said every time, smiling fondly at Alexus and ruffling her hair affectionately. Alexus smiled thinly at the memory before entering the shed, intent on finishing her task before dinner.

~

Dinner was a tiny selection of roast potatoes, a small serving of chicken meat and a boiled carrot. All of this was covered in this gravy, drowned in it, as if it may cover up the pitiful size of the meal. As usual, father sat at the head of the table - when Alexus came into the dining room he was describing in animated tones how a fool had fallen over in town in Nike, where he was selling his produce today, and how it was the funniest thing he did throughout his time in the town square. At the conclusion of his story, he turned to address Alexus with a proud smile:   
“ I noticed you’ve done a lovely job fixing the fence - I wish you would have waited and let me help, Alexus, it’s no job for a lady to do on her own.” Alexus blushed slightly at the compliment, not being used to any form of praise from anyone, and looked at her dinner bowl. From beside her father, mother snorted. Not surprising. Any bit of praise for Alexus usually resulted with her dismissal. And any word from father usually resulted in some degree of ridicule as well. Alexus straightened, almost too tired to stay upright, but braced a hand on the table and shot mother a glare.   
“It wasn't that hard, just a routine fix. It would be good if we could buy some more materials so we can install a completely new fence - the wood is already rotting away in some places.”   
“About that…” Alexus’s father looked uncomfortable for a second before he continued: “ Tom’s been talking to me today. Said he can't give my my pay until November. Something to do with shipment costs he borrowed money for, now the guys are calling in their debts” Silence followed his words. Then, uproar. November was in two months.  
“How are we supposed to live until then?” mother said, an undercurrent of hunger and worry honing her words into sharpness that was usually used when she talked to Alexus. No mention of Elodie’s lack of interest in bringing any money into the family. Admittedly, Alexus had long since given up hope trying to make her sister help her around the house and in town, at least offer some way of helping the family. At the same time, Elodie put her fork down looked at mother with pleading eyes.  
“ I need a new pair of boots” she said at last with a sigh. Alexus kept quiet, knowing better than to get in the middle of her sister and what she wants, but glanced at Elodie’s still-shiny pair by the door. Beside hers, her own too-small riding boots were falling apart at the seams, held together only by fraying laces. Alexus drowned out the sounds of her mother and sister’s quarrel over when and how father and Alexus will support them until the money arrives. At Elodie’s continuous pleads, mother seamed to change - she straightened her back, and with an air of importance turned to look at her Alexus’s father.  
“We should sell the stallion. He’d get good money at the fair” Mother declared, tossing a perfectly curled golden lock away from her face to flutter her lashes at her husband. Father nodded absentmindedly, more concentrated on eating his food rather than the conversation at hand   
“If you would have let me look for work I would be able to help” Her voice had turned hoarse, each word burning as it came out, “But your only solution is to give Albus to the highest bidder!” Hearing distress in Alexus’s voice, her father looked up, apparently now interested in the argument at hand.   
“You should learn some respect to your elders and betters,” Mother snapped, standing up from her chair in agitation and bracing her hands against the table, either side of her dinner bowl. “all I hear from you is rudeness and accusations. I’ve had enough! Charles, do something!” She half turned to her husband while pointing an accusatory finger at Alexus. Her father rose with deliberate slowness, putting his hand on his wife’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.  
“Now, ladies. Do stop arguing over-”  
“You should learn to control your temper” Alexus countered, cutting her father’s protests short and pushing her chair back as well. She didn't notice how angry she was until she started speaking, her words gathering in speed and hatred as she aimed them like well placed arrows at her mother.  
“I know you don't love me, you never have, you've made that perfectly clear. I’m not demanding love. I’m demanding you to not stare at me whenever I walk into a room. I’m demanding you to not talk about me like I’m dead. I demand to be treated as a daughter, not a servant! What I have ever done to deserve such hate I will never know-”  
“ You were a curse since before you were born!” Alexus flinched at the words. Bitter tears started to well up in her eyes - and despite her resignation to not cry, she felt her throat constricting painfully.   
“Why do you think you're so tall? You have the mind and demeanour of a predator. Why did you think the villagers were so hateful?” Mother moved towards the opposite end of the room, as if Alexus was a pathogenic disease to be avoided. The next words she uttered while staring at Alexus, drinking in her reaction like a snake watching the last :  
“ Your father was a demifae general. He and his soldiers captured and raped nine women from this village. The product of mine was you” She spat the last word out like it was something disgusting. A thick silence descended upon the family as Alexus stood, watching in disbelief as her mother walked to the man she had known her whole life to be her father and began sobbing into his chest, as if the weight of her words were emotionally taxing only to her alone. Slowly, Alexus let out a breath she never realised she had been holding and looked helplessly at Elodie, who was sitting in shock and studying the small oak table like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Fae. She was fae. Not fully, but a quarter - the outcast, the unwanted, the unneeded. Fae. From the corner of her eye she watched her father stir from his standing position and raise his arms around his wife, hesitate, and then wrap them around her. His choice. When she finally dared glance up, his expression was one of pure hatred. It looked unfamiliar on him - the face that she could always count to look at her with adoration, sometimes pride - was staring at her like she was a monster. It distorted his features into something foreign and frightening. She didn't hear the words until he was shouting them at her, screaming at her while grasping her mother’s shaking body closer to his chest. She just stared in disbelief at the person she had once considered her last hope. She watched the hope break and crumble into nothingness, leaving her to fend for herself. She felt her mouth open and close, for the first time in her life sort for words.  
“Get out! Get out! Get out!” Alexus’s ears rang with the words as she grabbed her coat and satchel. She wasn't sure whether her father followed her to the front door or whether he stayed in the room she had banged the door closed on. She wasn't sure whether he was apologising or cursing her as she took the steps two at a time until she reached the attic. She didn't bother writing a note to Elodie before gathering some necessities, shoving them into her satchel, slamming the window open and climbing out into the cold night air. She was never going to return to the life she left behind her. Without looking at the room beyond it, she pushed the window shut behind her, turning to face the world beyond the miserable cottage.


	2. The City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexus goes into the city, and the rest, you'll find out...
> 
>  
> 
> So I'm not an English student, unlike Anna, who's extremely talanted at writing - but I love Sarah J Maas' world so much, that I wanted to write a fanfic with my friend. So here's my go at a chapter, it will not be perfect - and if you spot any mistakes - do tell me, and I'll correct them. This is my first time writing in this kind of environment - so let us know what you think. - Freja

Alexus touched the door of the cabin gently, a scrap of paint came off onto her fingers and fluttered off her hand into the wind before falling onto the ferny floor, trapped. Something that she would no longer be.  
Arguing with her mother was one thing, and something that happened on a regular basis. But her father, and Elodie turning on her was another, it was unexpected. Their hearts were made of gold, and happiness and everything pure within this world, yet her mother, the cold one, had finally managed to suck out the goodness within them, crippling them to nothing more than a scrap of paint on the ancient and unloved door, that had finally fallen onto the ground. Defeated. Alexus was determined that she would not be. She would grow, like a wild flower in ash, she would burn the fucking cliche to the ground.  
After taking one last look back at the old cottage, at the crumbling walls that she had once been determined to fix, at her sister’s secret and curious shadow at the window, and at the dying pansies in her mother’s once beloved garden, Alexus finally let herself shed a single tear as she turned around and headed outside of the village knowing that the only time she would return would be in a cold wooden box, one for sorrow…

The city of the faes was bustling with life, with rich and high ladies wandering the streets, wearing lavish gowns made of purple and black silks, honouring the high lord of the Castle of Bones, with street merchants, chanting their songs in slow and rhythmic manners, enticing vulnerable and rich customers into their trap, like a cobra and a clueless mouse. However, the shadows of the main street were less beautiful, more torn, with young human girls wearing short and brightly coloured dresses, showing more skin than not, with their dirty skin covered completely in bruises from the boisterous fae consumers, most likely of the prince’s guard. Alexus had taken it upon herself within the past two days in the City of Shadows, to monitor the empty castle, and the prince’s guard - as a way of reassuring herself that she was constantly prepared, and making sure that she was in the right place at the right time, and away from the entitled males, who would prey on any human female who came into their wake,regardless of occupation, or consent. Although her father was a powerful and mysterious half fae, her powers were not as prevalent, and she was about as useful and as powerful as a human, and looked like one too, aside from her slight height advantage, and the tiny point of her ears. Other than that, she was useless, intelligence and her literacy, meant nothing in this godforsaken world.  
In the two days spent in the city Alexus had spoken to nobody, looked at nobody, and had avoided the prince’s patrol at all costs, even leaving behind her bag of supplies to avoid them. Her hair was covered with Elodie’s old cap, from her childhood, and her pale skin was covered from head to toe in loose and thick clothing, to hid her slight but distinctively feminine body. Although, Alexus had never been within a city like this before, she was no stranger to men and their ways, both human and fae were monsters. She had learned the hard way two years ago when walking past the village pub, when she witnessed the village bartender’s rape, but had been too cowardly to help, or scream or do anything other than run. 

—————

Run. Run. Run. That’s what Alexus’ mind was echoing. There was something bad in the air tonight, she could feel it. She could almost scent it. Coldness and misery.  
She heard the horns and the stomping of horse feet along the cobbled streets long before any of the humans on the streets did due to her slightly advanced hearing, they only realised something was up when the rich faes patrolling the streets in search of appropriate clothing, barked orders at them to go into the shadows, ‘to not be seen and to not be heard.’

Luck. That was something Alexus was short of, at school when she was younger, the children used to call her ‘unlucky lexi’ due to her misfortune, or falling over something that didn’t exist due to her long and disproportionate limbs. Luck. She was short of it. Luck. The assemble of horses and tall and muscular warriors came into view, one of which was taller than the others, in the middle on a dark stallion, that would make Albus, the prized possession at her village house, and Elodie’s entire heritage, look miserable. The figure, was not as muscular as the others, and if Alexus didn’t know any better, and listened to the human part in her, she would have guessed that this figure was not as powerful as the others, due to its lean physique and its surround clique, but something in her knew. Even then, that there was something terribly powerful in the predator, she could almost physically feel it.  
The crowd of humans behind her were struggling now. What for, she did not know. Although there were only five horses, four grey stallions surrounding the learn figure in the centre, with the narrower figure riding the darkest, and most beautiful creature that Alexus had ever laid eyes on. She knew that this small force could tackle any human army, regardless of size or weapons. They were immortal, they were powerful and the group single handily had branded the each and every remainder of the human race with the tattoo of the number thirteen, to represent the thirteen years that humanity had been in charge, under orders of their king. They were a part of her, a small voice whispered in her head, as Alexus pulled her hat down further to cover her delicate ears. 

The human crowd were getting increasingly restless with anxious breathing and crying from a young girl in a brightly coloured and degrading dress, whom Alexus almost shared bread with the other day, but stopped when she saw her hitting a stray dog on the street. Dogs will be dogs, she thought, and not the stray. Before Alexus could let her mind take her further away from the situation ahead of her and the one behind her, a large and sharp elbow jabbed her in the back, in a sensitive spot. Yelping, she tried to turn around and lash out at the nuisance behind her, only to be pushed further into the road.  
‘Stop. pushing’ Alexus whispered hastily through gritted teeth, as the group neared increasingly further, with Alexus hastily trying to avoid making eye contact with the ravenous faes standing neatly on the more visible and sunny part of the road, who were promising a short and quick death, but did not move to strike her, in respect for their prince.  
Up close, Alexus could finally appreciate the beauty of the approaching group, a young blonde woman with piercing blue eyes and immediately could tell that she was almost a head taller even on a horse, she would have been beautiful, had it not been for the scar down the side of her face. Before she could ponder on what could have caused a scar like that, on such a powerful creature, a shorter, but muscular male walked forward, casually stroking the hind of the grey horse that the blonde was riding, almost possessively - as if he wished he could be up there instead of the fierce blonde. But the most frightening of all was the man on the dark horse, with his enticingly beautiful strong face, with perfectly symmetrical features, and long canines bared to the human crowd, and his eyes, those eyes. Alexus realised for the first time in a long time, that she was frightened of him. She had never been frightened of anything before, and her life hadn’t exactly been pleasant, but her in eighteen years of living, never had she wished for death, instead of dealing with this level of fear. The human crowd must have agreed with her, because before she knew it, she was pushed again. This time to a visible point in the sun, this time in front of the black stallion, this time beyond the point of return… 

————

She landed with a sharp thump in front of the horse, which to her surprise didn’t rear up in fear, like any horse that she had encountered in the village would, especially Albus, and his fear of everything. Hastily, she scrambled to her feet and bowed down, not daring to look up towards the sunlight, and the beast on top of the horse, whilst making sure her unmistakably female and fae features were hidden from his view The human crowd, which beforehand was fidgeting, was absolutely still. Waiting. Watching. To not be seen, and to not be heard, a small voice uttered in her mind.  
Slowly but surely, Alexus tried to turn around and head back into the crowd, wishing and hoping that he would let her slither back into the shadows. But before she could even think of the distinct possibility of her future existing, the lean figure slid off his stallion and with supernatural speed, blocked her path to the humans in the shadows. 

‘What exactly do you think you’re doing boy’ the masculine voice growled, promising certain death, if she moved. 

Bowing down further than possible and still looking towards the dusty floor and hoping that the herbs, she religiously covered herself with every day to mask her female scent were working, Alexus replied in the lowest voice that she could muster, ‘I’m sorry sir. It was my fault’. 

But, before Alexus could even think of the blind word, run, his hand reached out for her cap and tore it away, revealing her dark shoulder length blonde hair. The presence was within arm’s reach now, but Alexus still concentrated on the ground at her feet, determined not to make eye contact with the presence that frightened her dearly, as one last feeble attempt to protect herself. 

‘Look at me, girl’ he growled. 

Reluctantly knowing that her game was over, she looked up slowly, with her emerald eyes squinting in the sun, still trying to avoid his unflinching stare. 

A strong hand reached out to her hair, closing the distance between the two, and flinching, Alexus’ human intuition immediately tried to escape the grasp, only to yelp when his other hand clasped the back of her neck, in an unforgiving lock, to hold her still, and gently he touched her naked hybrid ears. She was going to die, she knew it. She allowed herself to study his handsome face, thinking that if she was going to die, she wanted to look into his eyes and to mask any traces of her lingering scent of fear. Within his dark gaze, Alexus could see nothing but the pain, and all the human deaths that his father had caused. On his part, his eyes revealed nothing, but contemplation. A true and silent predator. 

Before she could scream, before Alexus could even utter a single curse word, he tilted her neck up towards him, and bit down firmly, with the precise intention to harm but not kill, on the tender part of her throat. Faster than lighting, her life was over, and as her world started to go black, he gently picked her up into his warm embrace, with the shocked whispers of his counterparts creating an relentless echo in her mind. With her body fading into unconsciousness, Alexus used the last traces of her energy to utter the promise, ‘you will regret this.’ Only to feel his deep and vibrating chuckle in response, forcing her mind further into an earthquake, swallowing and shattering her world entirely...


	3. A conversation - MINI CHAPTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't really a chapter, more thoughts within my brain that I wanted to share before Anna releases the next one. Did you know, that Anna and I keep each other's chapters secret from each other? So it's like playing a game of cat and mouse to make this fanfic work? It's super fun - try it some time guys and girls!!! 
> 
> ~ Freja

From the dust of the ground, and every fibre in my being, I knew that my time, as an innocent was over. In the arms of my enemy, in the arms of the son whose father had brutally murdered nearly all of the human race, and branded those remaining with the number thirteen, embedded within their skin, a constant reminder, of their father’s sins, of the thirteen years that humans had repressed faes. But, I am more human than fae, my blood runs red, my bones crack easily - the bite in my neck strings, as the venom from his canines runs throughout my system, torturing and playing with my human blood until it sings with pain, and dulling my fae blood until it follows its command and every order, making me weak. The male bite, the most fatal of all weapons could only be used on one female within a male’s lifetime, and it has made me his slave, has made me his mate, for an eternity. It’s poison runs throughout my veins, claiming me, mapping everything I am, understanding me more than myself. When I was a little girl, I read a forbidden scripture, about a female who had thoughts of running away from her mate, and the mate found her before she could even run, even plan. The male knew every time a male’s gaze fell upon her, every time a male secretly lusted about her: and murdered every single male, in her wake. That was the power of the bite, even the humans in her village whispered about it when they thought no one was listening, with Elodie secretly proclaiming at one point, that it was romantic, and more spiritual than a golden ring, an innocent. Something I, will never get to be again.

\----------------------

‘Raziel, what are you doing? Why did you bite that human street rat, surely you respect yourself more than that?’ Marius growled, as he paced throughout Raziel’s study. Usually, he would allocate time, within his conversations with Raziel, to study some of his books, or even make jokes about some of the women within their lives. But this was different, this was unforgivable. Even though, Raziel could break him into a thousand pieces, through a snap of his fingers, Marius proceeded with his scolding due to his unrelenting pride of being a full blooded fae, and his honesty to his prince.  
‘Marius, a fae cannot control his feelings when he has spotted his mate. Surely you, out of everyone should understand this, and respect this intuition’ Raziel said, whilst studying papers sprawled across the ebony desk, and picked up one with apparent interest, and studied it intently, throughout Marius’ testimony.  
‘But she’s not a fae. You are the highest of all faes, your father would have heavily disapproved of this. Humans are for fucking and killing, Raziel - not for mates’ Marius growled, with his brow lowering deeply, revealing wrinkles that did not exist a few weeks ago.  
Raziel’s eyes turned dark after a pause, as he moved with supernatural speed and gripped Marius’ armour, with his teeth bared at his face, ‘you will not question my motives Marius. You have been honest, but your idealistic views of race have put you out of my favour. The girl, is the daughter of the most famous half fae in this world, the one that aided my father in battle, the one that you heard stories about when you were a young boy, the one that none of us name due to unspoken grief, and respect of his legacy. She has noble blood within her. She is mine, and if you speak poorly of her again, believe me when I say that me ripping your throat out, will be the least of your problems. We have the bond, surely you know better than to taunt me now?’  
Backing away slowly, Marius bowed down to the floor, a common sign of submission, ‘I had no idea my lord, the girl looked so human. I had no idea that she could have holy blood within her precious veins. I will not disrespect her again, or the bond that you have created. I am sorry, my lord. I will never…’ But before Marius could finish his sentence, Raziel sent his shadows towards him. The shadows covered him entirely, hiding any traces of his beating heart, or the blood flowing through his veins. Like an adder, Raziel toyed with his prey, and sucked the life out of his veins, until his immortal skin turned grey and ashy. Until his body was no more than a pile of bones on the floor, nothing more than a new addition to the walls of the Castle of Bones. 

—————————————————————————————————


	4. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay I tried very hard on this chapter, because it has to be perfect.   
> Sorry for the delay.
> 
> *Very long chapter warning*
> 
> I really, really hope you will enjoy it 
> 
> ~Anna~

When an animal is left in a cage for too long, it starts to associate the cage with the feeling of safety - so when the cage door is opened, it stays inside. It wants to stay inside, because inside is safe. 

Alexus had been sitting in the room she woke up in for three hours, eighteen minutes and fifty nine seconds before she heard the tentative knock on the door, the kind that suggests the person is absolutely terrified of who will answer the door. They should be - Alexus spent a good portion of her first hour throwing things across the room. Not because she thought it would particularly annoy the prince. She just liked imagining him as whatever unfortunate object she was aiming for. The activity got tiring after a while : It was much less satisfying to be angry without having someone present there to be angry at. The next two hours were spent silently contemplating the dimensions of the room and the materials she had at hand to formulate an escape. A quick glance out of the window made her conclude that she would rather stay in the castle and rot. Whatever tower they locked her in was ridiculously high - any escape through the window would lead to a certain and painful death. Alexus then spent the rest of her time lying on the massive four poster bed, staring at the ornamented ceiling and counting seconds. She was getting violently bored before the knock. It almost seemed stupid, the knock - it would suggest there was some choice on her part, like she had some sort of authority to demand the visitor to leave. It’s not like she can leave the room either - she couldn't pick the lock. Actually, there was no lock to pick. The door seemed to lock with some sort of magnetic or magical force that Alexus was both fascinated and disgusted by. Since she wanted anyone and anything associated with her captor dead at her feet or burning in the fiery pits of hell, she didn't deign a verbal response. She turned her head in the direction of the huge, painted white and gold door and waited. The room she was walked in was large - larger than any enclosed space she had ever been in, and was furnished elegantly. Before she broke half of the gold plaited furniture. The bed was the only thing she wasn't able to move at all due to it’s immense weight, and it seemed to be the only piece of the interior design that was made to be sturdy - throwing a chair at it only did damage to the chair, and none to the delicate gold and silver flower patterns that were drawn on the frame, or the wooden frame itself. She was finally startled from her position on the bed by the shy appearance of a head, followed by a body, through a now - somehow silently - open door, of a girl: a girl who didn't look older than Alexus and was just as skinny. She was human, but pretty - the way Elodie was pretty, the way some merchant girls in town were pretty. An innocent type of prettiness, one that made simple men swoon over the unfortunate souls in its possession. She had large, striking blue eyes and dark brown hair which flowed in gentle waves down to her waist. She was wearing a dark blue, free flowing dress that was just translucent enough to show her curvy, yet thin figure. If Alexus were to stand up, she would guess the girl was just tall enough to reach her chin level - an average human height. Finding nothing better to do, Alexus raised an eyebrow at the girl, hoping for some kind of explanation as to what happened and why she was in a room to commence. Instead, the girl dipped into an elegant, polite courtesy and gave Alexus a small smile.  
“Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, miss. Master sent me to give you a proper welcoming to his castle” The girl cocked her head to the side, reminding Alexus painfully of her sister’s habit to do so when she was interested in something. At that thought her heart seemed to shrink inside her chest. Elodie. She was back home, safe. Back home and happy. Sometimes she missed her so much it felt like she’d swallowed broken glass. Without her, she had no real friends - all the girls in the village had avoided her the moment she shared her love of books in a discussion at the local Sunday school - the only form of education that was deemed acceptable to be received by both girls and boys. Alexus wondered whether she was being missed. If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?  
“I’m Derora, by the way,” the girl smirked, leaning on the doorframe, “ what’s your name?” Derora means ‘free’ in the Old tongue. Humans still name their daughters that, to allow some useless splinter of hope to exist. Alexus sat up and shifted off the bed. She was acutely aware of the unflattering quality of her baggy clothes compared to Derora’s graceful outfit. There were numerous beautiful dresses, and obnoxious ones, in the large wardrobe next to the bed. Alexus had tossed all of them out of the window in disgust. She turned to Derora, accidentally catching sight of herself in the mirror, which leaned against the wall next to the door. She smoothed her hair down self consciously. The pale oval of her face was dominated by hollow, dark eyes that were once a mixture of green and hazel - a shadowed face without colour or hope in its expression. Although she had only spent a week in the streets of the Capital, it stole whatever softness her body had, making it angular and sharp - nothing close to the effects of starvation, but unhealthy. A slight turn of her head revealed a scar in the shape of a bite - the claiming mark. It had already healed, the blood around it already dry. Alexus was going to have that mark forever now, a reminder. She looked away quickly.  
She hadn't always flinched away from the mirror. Everyone knew Elodie was the beauty of the family, but Alexus had always been content with her long hair and bright eyes. Being tall was tolerable - she could look regal and confident if she remembered to keep her back straight. She turned to Derora and gave her a small smile, mimicking the other girl’s boyish smirk.  
“I’m Alexus” Derora brightened at that, her smirk turning into an infectious grin.  
“I hope you’ll like it here, Alexus. The fae bastards are a bit annoying, but they mostly treat us the way we would treat cats or dogs.” Derora said it in a way that suggested she wasn't thrilled at the idea, but was glad the circumstances weren't worse. The castle was probably better for humans than the streets - as servants, they could rely to at least two meals a day and a place to sleep.   
“Sounds better than the streets” Alexus replied tonelessly, her throat dry. She wasn't planning to stay in the castle - she didn't care about the bite. She might as well not pretend to be interested. Derora’s perfectly groomed brows shot up to her hairline.  
“You lived on the streets?” She looked positively shocked. Seeing Alexus’s guarded expression, she composed her expression to be more calm and explained- “ No one told us who you were, what you were or where you came from. We just watched the Prince enter the castle with you in his arms and the bite on your neck. He sent me to you when he felt you wake up.”  
“Did he bring me here as well” Alexus couldn't force her voice to work higher than a whisper.   
“Yes, but you don’t need to look so betrayed. We will get you cleaned and dressed, you'll get food. This may not be the life you would have liked to choose, and you may be afraid of what’s coming. But humans in the castle stick together - we don't leave our own behind.” She paused, apparently realising something. “do you know why the Prince chose you? I mean, you're human. He despises us.” She warranted, seeing the look Alexus shot her.   
“I don’t know.” Alexus replied, choosing not to mention her fey heritage. In this place, it guaranteed her to be left alone. She also chose to ignore the promises of food and shelter. Derora looked at her - Alexus supposed she was assessing her, trying to figure her out. She was glad that she was good at masking her emotions - her face remained blank.  
“Well, I really hope you’re as smart as you look then. You’ll need it in this place.” Derora stepped back into the hallway, holding the door open for Alexus - a silent invitation to commence the ‘tour’ she was sent here to do. Alexus decided not to say anything as she exited her room and followed Derora down a set of stairs that led to the main floors of the castle. At the base of the stairs, without turning, Derora stopped and lowered her voice to a whisper.  
“The fey here like to be treated even better than the ones in the city. Don't look them in the face when you’re talking to them. Give simple, formal answers.” She glanced at Alexus, giving her an approving smile. “ the rest you probably know.” She didn't talk much after that as they passed hallway after hallway, sometimes stopping to give a short greeting and introduction to a human servant. They met no greater faes, except for the nearly invisible guards that lined every hallway. There seemed to be an immense abundance of hallways, staircases and unused rooms within the castle. It looked massive from the centre of the city, but seemed absolutely impossible to navigate on the inside. As the pair turned yet another corner to reveal yet another opulently furnished hallway, Alexus interrupted Derora’s speech on how pissy the cooks were about giving humans more food than they deemed absolutely necessary.  
“Who are you?” Alexus asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, what does your work consist of here?”  
“I’m once of the prince’s chosen servants - I usually tend to his…needs. He’s very clear on his preferences when it comes to humans, and I’m one of the few he actually likes. Occasionally I’m instructed to do some boring stuff - bring him breakfast, sweep the floor, but mostly he uses me for entertainment. It would seem weird if they auctioned me off at a stupid price so I could make him tea.”  
“You mean you’re his courtesan” Alexis summed up bluntly. Derora looked back at her over her shoulder, a small smirk playing on her lips. It seemed forced.  
“How very direct. I do prefer to be referred as a maid, though” She turned right on another crossroad of hallways, leading them to a set of large double doors. Not at all bothered by Alexus’s comment. “much less negativity associated with that occupation” she explained, and opened the double doors with a dramatic push. Alexus forgot how to breathe quite a while after that.  
They opened to reveal a massive room, which had so many windows it gave Alexus the impression she was outside. Five immense silver chandeliers hung from the beautifully painted ceiling, which was decorated with paintings of angelic figures on a shock of blue background - the same colour as the sky outside. The far end of the rectangular room - Alexus guessed it was a ballroom, judging by the lack of furniture, was a an area that was raised slightly above the perfectly polished dance floor and which was sectioned off by a blood red carpet. Upon the top stood an intimidatingly large and heavily ornamented golden throne, which managed to look elegant and light despite the number of gems and precious metals it was coated with.   
“Is this marble?” Alexus asked, looking at the floor and walls with barely concealed interest - sculptures and ornaments were carved into the material, with some walls decorated with astoundingly detailed tapestries and paintings.   
“Bone” Derora replied simply, giving a dismissive look to the decor surrounding her. At that, Alexus stopped walking cursed with great volume and expression, her eyes wide and staring in horror at the hellish beauty around her. Derora waited patiently for her to be done before speaking.  
“The whole castle is made out of bones - the walls, the floor, the foundations. Most of them human, from the war. You look a bit pale, are you okay?” She gave Alexus a concerned look, reaching up a hand to touch her shoulder in a calming manner. Alexus nodded, trying to distract herself from the detail she had just found out to examine the ballroom again. It seemed to carry a much more eerie atmosphere now that she knew the beauty of it was founded on death and suffering.   
Both of the girls paused their conversation when they heard a loud bark of laughter echo from the opening balcony door on their right - one that lead onto a massive terrace which was twice as big as the ballroom itself. The voice was undeniably a masculine one. So was the set of soft footsteps that followed it. By the way Derora stiffened slightly, Alexus positive the male was fae. She spun to look back, momentarily forgetting the simple rule of looking down - and stared.  
There was a young man standing in front of her. He couldn't be older than twenty, but it was hard to say with faes, due to their immortality. He was dressed in simple, but elegant clothes - a black leather jacket, trousers and tight - looking boots. He wore no coat or waistcoat, despite the freezing weather outside, and thick leather straps criss-crossed his waist. Attached to the straps were weapons - daggers and throwing knives were the few things Alexus was able to definitively identify. One of his hands - slim and long fingered - held a long, golden whip that was coiled around his wrist.   
But that wasn't what caught her attention, what made her stare. He had the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Tangled black hair and warm brown eyes, flecked with what looked to be specks of bright, gleaming gold. Elegant cheekbones, a full mouth and long, thick lashes. Even the curve of his throat was perfect. He looked like every fictional hero Alexus had conjured up for years in her head.

It was also the face she remembered looking up at before she felt teeth on her neck, so she despised every aspect of it.

He and a companion brown-haired companion walked towards her, the former with the confidence of a predatory cat, his body fluid and perfectly composed under his clothes.  
“Leave us.” The order didn't have to be addressed at anyone in particular - it was already clear who exactly he wanted out of the room. Derora and the boy’s companion left, with Derora hurrying forward to be in time to open the door for the male fae. He didn't even give her a glance as he passed into the hallway and out of sight. Her attention back to her companion, Alexus resisted the urge to shrink back as the boy stalked toward her, coming to a graceful stop an arm length before her.   
“What’s your name, then?” His voice was melodic, some would call it pleasant. He had a natural charisma that made everything he said seem like either an order or a punchline to a good joke. He looked at her face with critical interest, waiting for her answer. Alexus looked at him in disbelief. “What’s my name?”  
“Don’t you know it?”  
“ You- you bite me in the middle of a street, take my unconscious body and lock it in a room in a castle and then demand to know my name?” Alexus couldn't help the sarcasm colouring her tone - it was too daring a risk, but the stupidity of the situation was almost overwhelming.   
“Yes” the boy said, seemingly unfazed by her rude comment. Alexus paused, speechless.  
“Ale- Alexus Littlewood.” She stammered, cursing herself for not being well spoken. The boy cocked his head to the side - a purely feline, somehow different to the boyish brashness Derora managed in her movements. He didn't seem to have a problem with her looking directly at his face.  
“Pleasure to meet you, Alexus” The boy grinned down at her. He was a full head taller than her - tall, even for a fae. “An unusual name for a human. I met a lot of common fairies with that name, never humans. I might have killed some with the same name, though”   
Alexus stared.  
“Unfortunately,” he went on, “ I don't have a lot of time to practice the things I enjoy doing most. Like lying at charades, sword fighting in a highly intoxicated state, delighting young women with my charms…”  
Alexus looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you the prince?”  
“ Your room is already clean, by the way. I was quite impressed by an ability of such a tiny person to maintain the will and the strength to throw gold rimmed furniture around” He continued, apparently ignoring her vehemence.  
“Are you the prince?”   
He made an impatient noise, rolling his eyes.   
“ My name,” he said, looking amused. “ is Raziel. Is this really your choice of outfit for today? Not very nice, is it?” His eyes wondered up and down her body, freely drinking in every inch. He waved a hand at her. “Do you normally dress like this, or is this a special occasion?”  
Alexus felt her cheeks flame in a mixture of shock and embarrassment. Raziel didn't just exert power and cruelty from his very being: he had an energy to his speech and movements that suggested a barely concealed, immense power and intellect. He wasn't just dangerous: he was lethal. No book or song or poem had captured the essence of the fey standing in front of Alexus.  
“I didn't seem to have much of a choice in terms of clothes” She replied boldly, trying to ignore the fluttering of her heart. Raziel gave a bark of laughter of that, which startled her - it changed his face from one that carried a cruel and a permanently amused expression to a completely different being entirely. Still grinning, he stretched a hand out and did something Alexus would have thrown him off the balcony for, had she not been so startled. His fingers brushed the curve of her cheekbone, travelling further until one half of her face rested in the palm of his right hand. His other hand travelled to her waist, which he gripped gently, pulling her closer to him until they were breathing the same air. With a thoughtful expression, Raziel moved Alexus’s head to look at the scar - his scar - on her neck. What he did next made Alexus wake up and jump away from him, disgusted. His lips brushed the tender spot, sending electric shocks to down Alexus’s spine. He was close enough to feel her shiver, which caused him to let out a chuckle that stirred the air uncomfortably close to Alexus’s neck.   
“ I’m not going to be dragged in here to be insulted” Alexus’s voice threatened to shake; somehow, she kept it firm. She took a step away from the prince, covering the bite mark with her hand protectively. He followed her movement, standing once again uncomfortably close to her.  
“You’re irritated” Raziel observed with a smirk. She wanted to slap the expression off his face. He reached out again, taking advantage of Alexus being momentarily paralysed with shock once again, to run his fingers through the dark honey locks of her hair. The way someone would stroke a cat and admire the colour of it’s pelt.   
Raziel grinned ferociously. “You’re mine. And you will be, forever” His grip tightened until her wrist was wrapped in steel. When she tried to jerk away, she felt her shoulder nearly dislocate, her arm screaming in protest to her manipulations. Raziel leaned in until his face was so close their noses were nearly brushing. “Run away. Try it. You have this-” he flicked a lock of her hair dismissively to reveal the newly formed scar on her neck. “- to remind you of me.” without warning, her wrist was released. Alexus backed away, straight into the closed door. Raziel looked at her, the strange gold in his eyes now a blazing inferno. He looked like a messenger of hell itself. Alexus fiddled with he handle of the door, trying to force it open as Raziel began to laugh. He’s absolutely bloody mad. Alexus didn't have the time to appreciate exactly what Raziel found amusing, because seconds later she was sprinting down the unfamiliar hallways of the castle, turning experimentally and hoping to find the stairs she remembered to lead to the tower, and therefore her room. After a heart stopping encounter of guards patrolling hallways and dead ends, she finally arrived at the base of the stairs that already seemed so familiar and welcoming to her. She was crying before she had the change to close the door to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if I need to improve anything or explain anything. I didn't have a chance to read it through completely - so if it doesn't seem fluid, I'm very very sorry for the lack of effort on my part.
> 
> ~Anna~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone in her room, Alexus discovers more about her captor, and realises that he's not her knight in shining armour. 
> 
> \- so there's lots of grammatical mistakes, and stuff like that - hope you enjoy - Freja

Alone in her room, alone in her heart, alone in her soul. Alexus had never felt so empty, as she absentmindedly touched the bite mark on her neck, the link to that beautiful, yet horrifying creature and was disgusted to feel how sensitive that spot was, his spot was. The link that kept her tied here, to this castle, constantly within Raziel’s grasp, within his sight and mind, for an eternity.

‘My ladyship, I brought you some tea’ Derora says interrupting her thoughts, as she carefully balances a golden teacup and pot on the end of her bed, the only piece of furniture that had not been broken, and not by her choice. ‘He’s going to be angry when he sees that you’ve done this’ she tuts, as the petite maid busies herself, picking up broken pieces of furniture, and piling them in a neat fashion in the corner of the room to be cleaned up and fixed later, with her shiny hair swaying with every motion of her cleaning, a perfect courtesan, almost fitting for Raziel’s unfiltered beauty.  
‘I don’t care what he thinks’ she says, whilst wiping her bloodshot eyes, in an attempt to make it look like she hadn’t been crying for the past hour, or thinking of alternative routes of escape. Screw Raziel, and his tricks, how cruel it was to give her the false hope of being able to escape, knowing that the only direction she could go in was back to her cage, like a trapped songbird, who had forgotten how to sing, Alexus was forgetting how to fight, and despite living on the streets, and battling against the odds of death, she knew that this pampered world, with golden rimmed bed frames and windows was more lethal, than she could have ever imagined.  
Noticing her discomfort and vulnerability, Dervola perches herself next to Alexus’ crumpled figure on the side of the bed, and making sure not the spill the hot tea, she picks up the cup and teacup and hands it to Alexus expectantly.  
‘Throw it’ Derora says, whilst laughing at Alexus’ following puzzled expression.  
‘I thought you said that he’d be angry?’ Alexus questions thinking of Derora’s comments a few seconds earlier, whilst looking down at the expensive teacup and pot and back at the wonderfully disobedient maid.  
‘You’ve already ruined the majority of this room, Alexus, it’s not going to make a difference if this is ruined too. Now do it, before I change my mind!’ Derora whispers, with her naturally beautiful face lighting up with something that Alexus had never seen before on her face, happiness. If anything, the maid’s happiness sparked a light of inspiration in Alexus, knowing that although Raziel had taken her body and dignity, he hadn’t sucked out all that was honest and human in her.  
Without missing a beat, Alexus hurls the cup, and then pot at the stone wall, with the steamy water from the remains sizzling in the gloomy air, hissing or screaming, Alexus couldn’t tell.  
Laughter. Alexus was howling hysterically, with Derora not that far behind. The two girls, were so different, yet so similar. One high up, one low down, yet both trapped. Tipping her head back Derora’s cackle dances its way throughout the trashed room, a bewitching and very human sound that Alexus is oddly drawn to, whilst realising with short amazement, that she genuinely likes the maid, and her company, despite the circumstances and her unusual and disturbing relationship with Raziel, Alexus could feel a thread of happiness, with it’s golden tethers wrapping its way around her beating heart, in a promise and an embrace.  
‘Thank you’ Alexus mutters and not just for the companionship, but for her presence and unfiltered human happiness showing that no matter how powerful he was, he could not take away or manipulate Derora’s character. Overwhelmed with emotion and hope, she threw her tired and splintered arms around the maid from, with gratitude or desperation, she did not know, or care.  
‘Ow’ Derora shrinks back, whilst placing a protective and possessive arm over the area that Alexus touched, trying to prevent tears of pain from reaching her doe-like eyes. Without hesitating Alexus, gently leans over and pulls back the degrading material of her uniform, to reveal the maid’s pale, chest, skinny back and arms which to her horror, are all covered with fingerprint bruises and scratches that only a certain fae could create, the girl shrinks back further and quickly pulls the material over herself, covering her dignity, as she quickly bounces to her feet and starts to hurry out of the golden and white door.  
‘Wait’ Alexus screams, and to her surprise, the girl pauses, at the sudden desperation in her voice. Not wanting to miss her chance, Alexus chances her tone and gently paces over to her, like she would, when cornering a moody Albus and took one last look at the bruises peaking out beneath her dress, black and blue, like the sky, ’Who did this to you?’  
Derora’s eyes bore into hers with a serious clarity, for an uncomfortably long time, with her youthful face appearing centuries older and after a long pause, whispers, ‘Raziel.’  
Before Alexus could get closer to the startled girl to embrace her, or do or say anything to help, the handleless door slams in her face. Once again, Alexus is alone in her room, a nightingale with no song. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door opens with a loud bang, and the thing that frightened Alexus, was anything but the noise. Scurrying to the back of the room, Alexus grabs a piece of furniture that Derora lovingly placed at the side, and holds it towards the figure, standing at the doorway, wearing nothing but her nightgown. Ignoring her attempts to threaten him, Raziel, confidently walks into the room, whilst slamming the door behind him, trapping her.  
‘Get away from me’ she hisses, whilst shaking the piece of broken wood, that was once a pretentious table leg at him.  
Ignoring her attempts once again, Raziel prowls closer to her with no weapons, golden whips, other than his bare hands, and black night clothes. He comfortably sits at the end of her bed, whilst gesturing for her to sit next to him. In response, Alexus’ lip curls, as she realises that now would be the best time to take her chances, and battle for escape due to his unarmed nature and revenge at his cruel prank earlier. Slowly but surely, her grip clutching her makeshift weapon tightens, raising it to hit him, to attack.  
Raziel’s brown eyes bore into hers, before his full lips quirk into a playful smile, with the snap of his fingers, the wood that Alexus was gripping onto with the desperation of a wild animal, disappears into ashes, as well as her foolish hopes hitting him hard, and creating a bruise, like he did with that poor, innocent maid.  
‘Now. We didn’t get a proper chance to get to know each other earlier’ she murmurs, like a teacher talking to a naughty child, ‘are you going to sit on my lap, or will I have to force you. Either is just as fun.’  
Knowing that disobeying him, would lead to more harm than good, Alexus reluctantly walks over to him looking like a lost, with her hair in tangles, her skin pale and washed out and her nightgown hanging loosely off her bones, thinking that she would prefer to become a part of this castle one way rather than live out her life with this monster, before finally sitting next to him on the bed, as one last shred of disobedience.  
‘That’s not my lap’ Raziel purrs, whilst running a tentative finger down Alexus’ arm, bringing out goosebumps on her pale skin, and making the bites on her neck, one fresh and one old, sting.  
‘I don’t want to’ Alexus hisses, her green eyes narrowing, at the smiling predator in front of her.  
Tutting, Raziel effortlessly scoops her up, and places the struggling girl onto his lap.  
‘Now. Why did you destroy all my furniture?’ He whispers into her ear, whilst running a cold hand underneath her nightgown, up and down her back in cold and torturous circles.  
Despite herself, and every intuition within her body, Alexus automatically arches into his touch, her hatred for him deepening further, with every soft stroke on her naked back.  
Regaining her composure, she responds, ‘I was angry at the situation. That’s all.’  
‘That’s all?’ he mocks, whilst Alexus desperately tries to avoid his intense gaze, frightened and embarrassed at her physical reaction to him.  
‘No’ she shakes her head, whilst remembering her anger towards him, she locks her eyes into his, whilst talking into account his full check bones, lips and encouraging smile, ‘I want you to stop hurting Derora, and any other woman in that way.’  
Raziel cocks his head, enjoying her discomfort, like a snake watching its prey squirm and breathe its last breath of life, ‘what way?’  
‘In a sexual way’ Alexus chokes out, with his hand continuing to rub up and down her back, knowing that sacrificing herself was going to be the only way to protect Derora and the other unnamed women who have and will potentially suffer at his intrusive hands.  
‘Are you jealous?’ he grins, whilst pulling her closer, onto him. Through the fabric of his trousers, To her apparent dismay Alexus could feel him, and trying not to throw up at the sensation, she looks at the lion, and lies, ‘I am, and I don’t want you to touch anyone that is not me from now on, and forever. I am yours, and you are mine.’  
Raziel’s grin stops, as he gently cups her breasts, and shudders, with his voice lowering even further from its already deep tone, ‘I want you to know, that I do not break my promises, and I hold people accountable to theirs’ and with a smile, that Alexus had read about in fairytales, and listened to Elodie whisper about in her dreams about, he growls in a feral voice, that only a high fae could have, ‘it looks like you’ve got yourself a deal, little mouse.’


	6. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise for delaying this. Me and Freja have both had exams and are going to have exams for the next month. We'll try to keep this fanfic updated. 
> 
> We are planning to write loads in the summer, so I guess there is that to look forward to?
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, all comments and any criticism is welcome in the comments.
> 
> ~chapter by Anna~

Alexus woke up the next day feeling numb. She knew her stunt with Raziel wasn't going to work. She felt like she had cheated her chances of forming any kind of friendship with Derora. The reek of Raziel’s invasive touch still clung to her skin as she slid out of bed onto the cold marble floor. No, not marble. Bone. Everything in this castle was made of bones. She repressed a disgusted shiver before padding towards the huge wardrobe that - she assumed - held a number of various scandalous dresses she would now have to endure wearing. The Crown Prince left soon after she had issued her request. He didn't give her an explanation - her only warning before his abrupt leave was an agitated growl he emitted before pushing her away. She thanked the gods he had. She didn't want to think about what he would have done to her next. She shook her head, dislodging the memory. She didn't need to think about it now - she was sure she had much more to endure. Opening the wardrobe door, Alexus was ready for an assault of finery and elegancy - she wasn't ready for the abundance of it. Dresses, skirts, shirts, trousers, belts and gloves of every shade and fabric variety lined every part of the wardrobe. The doors ringed to a melodic sound of jewellery clattering against the wooden surface of the door. Even from a quick once over, Alexus could tell that all of the clothes in front of her were tailored to her measurements, although she was mildly concerned with how the more intimate aspects of her wardrobe looked to be the perfect size. She hated most of them. Four servants slipped in from the door-that-wasn’t-really-a-door and attempted to offer to bathe and clothe her, to which she gave a polite declination. She didn't have the energy to be rude. She didn't have any energy to do anything at all.   
She bathed in a large bronze bath that was situated behind an elegantly decorated paper screen, already full of hot, lavender-scented water. It was no hardship finding anything she would need - the vanity table held a fascinating assortment of ribbons, combs, clasps and ties. There were soaps and creams that smelled of every assortment of smells she could imagine waiting for her disposal. After a long two hours, she gave herself a critical glance in the mirror and allowed herself a grin.She wore a practical dress, not unlike the style of the ones she usually wore at home, although this one was an evidently more elegant version. It had multiple, layered sky blue skirts that went down slightly below her knees and an elegant, flower patterned bodice bordered with a slim line of gold and long white sleeves. She found comfortable, kitten soft cotton breeches to cover up the length of her legs. As a second thought, she snatched a neat, white polka dot apron and tied it around her waist. The last thing she put on were dark green, striped socks and brown lace up boots that pinched her toes before she twisted her hair into a simple french braid, twisting a orchid ribbon into it on a whim. She almost looked like herself.  
“Finally. Took you long enough.” The voice was Derora’s. The young maid walked toward Alexus with the same boyish confidence she exerted yesterday. “You take almost as long as Lady Ellismera to dress. Except you don't demand three servants to help you.” She gave Alexus a smirk. She was dressed in a semi-transparent, sleeveless dress similar to the one she wore yesterday, except this one was the colour of dry blood and had a delicate, bejewelled golden collar. There were more bruises peppering her arms.  
“Good morning to you too.” Alexus mimicked Derora’s smirk back, crossing her arms in front of her.   
“Oh, don’t look so happy to see me. I was told to help you find your way to wherever you wanted to go.” Derora pouted, turning her lovely face into a painting of comical misery. “ They don't really know what to do with me during the day time, so they decided playing babysitter for you was their best idea. Did you want to go anywhere in particular?” Alexus’s mind swirled at that.   
“Do you have anywhere I could sit and read for a bit?” She asked, vaguely remembering a story she overheard one of the schoolteachers telling some boys about the Royal Library. Derora’s perfect eyebrows shot up. “Read?” she parroted. “There’s a library, if that’s what you mean?”  
Alexus nodded, the words resonating in her like a shot of lightning. She had never been in a library before. She followed Derora out of her room and down the stairs.   
“By the way,” the maid said as they descended. “ The whole castle’s got orders to tend to your every need. No one’s allowed to harm you.” she looked over her shoulder, giving Alexus an amused look. “Try not to abuse that advantage too much.” Alexus stuck her tongue out to one of the guards as soon as she got the chance, much to Derora’s delight, who jammed her fist against her mouth to keep herself from laughing. They walked through a maze of corridors for what seemed like hours before they came to a stop in front of a set of doors.  
The thirty-foot, thick bone doors seemed immovable. Alexus’s eyes widened at the dragons that grew out of either side of the bone wall. Four-legged dragons - the common ones that the demifae kept and trainer for war. Derora pushed the doors open reluctantly, as if Alexus was going to stop her and admit to a terrible prank.   
Compared to the bone-white, pristine hallway, the chamber the doors opened to seemed comfortably dark, but as she stepped inside, candelabras came into view, along with thick rugs of every pattern and colour lining the floors, large mahogany tables with red velvet chairs, crackling fireplaces, mezzanines, stairs, ladders, railings, and then books. An army of them, more than Alexus could imagine existing in one space at any point in history. Books and books and books. A citadel of leather and paper. Her heart danced and soared, and she cracked a smile. “I’ve never seen so — how many volumes are in here?” she was mostly speaking to herself. “I could live here!” Derora looked at her with concern.  
“You like to read?”  
She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you?” seeing the confusion in Derora’s face, she moved farther into the library, running a hand across the dusty books. “I’ll leave you here, then” Derora called. “Try not to break anything if you get angry. The librarian’s gonna get pissy.”   
Alexus turned from the stack she was currently studying. “See you later” she said, watching the other girl disappear behind the immense doors with no more than a casual wave in Alexus’s general direction.   
She continued her journey through the library, searching for any of the titles she had heard of or remembered wanting to read. None of those titles appeared in the rows she checked, but it seemed like a hundred more intriguing titles were added to her list. She spent a long time walking through the multiple layers of the library, her footsteps echoing through the giant chamber. She finally picked one book at random, the author of which was familiar to her, and tucked it under her arm. It was a shock to find herself walking into a body as she rounded yet another corner of a bookshelf.   
She jumped back in surprise, instantly regretting moving so quickly. Her wrist stung where she collided it with the edge of a table. When she looked down to examine it, a thin cut spread across the base of her wrist, blood welling up and spilling over the edges of the miniature wound. She cursed violently, uncaring of whether she was heard. Her book, which had fallen during her unfortunate encounter with the table, was picked up by the female librarian, into which she had apparently stumbled into. The librarian paled at the sight of her blood and rushed off to get bandages, returning in a few minutes with rubbing alcohol and enough bandages to mummify Alexus and her whole family. While her hand was tended, Alexus examined the woman more closely.   
She was large, but well contained within the gown of blue and peach, which Alexus deduced to be the the colours of the demifae servants of the royal household, since judging by her height and ear shape the woman was definitely not human. The colours complimented her creamy brown skin and bright grey eyes. Her face, while a bit wrinkled, was round-cheeked and finely coloured. She smiled at Alexus as she finished bandaging her hand, gave her hand a light pat and offered to give her a tour of the library, to which Alexus refused, but asked for an opportunity to read outside.   
She was generously led to a small balcony with comfortable, plush chairs arranged around a few small tables. She arranged herself on one of those chairs, setting her book on her lap. She waved at the guards standing at attention near the balcony doorway, who glared at her, their fingers itching towards the triggers of their crossbows. She grinned at one, who bared his teeth at her, his canines flashing in the morning sun. Alexus turned and spent a large portion of her morning lost in the contents of her chosen novel, until she was rudely disturbed at midday. The clock tower chimes informed her of the hour.   
A sound flitted through the garden, and some of the guards glanced towards its source. Five high fae women appeared from around a tall, perfectly trimmed hedge, clustering in conversation.  
Most of their talk Alexus overheard from courtiers throughout the day was extremely dull, so she didn't expect much as the women neared. All of them wore fine, elegant dresses, though only one of them seemed to stand out. Her hair was platinum blond - so white Alexus had to wonder whether she used substances to enhance the colour. Her rose skirts were the size of a tent, her bodice so lavishly decorated Alexus wondered how she could support the weight of all that jewellery on her. All the others had manes of raven hair and were dressed in pale blue, their matching gowns suggesting the rank of ladies-in-waiting. Alexus put her hand on the rail and leaned in carefully to watch them as they stopped at a nearby fountain. It was fascinating to watch the high fae move - they seemed both identical and entirely different to humans, their soundless movements eternally elegant and aristocratic.  
From her place on the balcony, Alexus spied the blond woman brush a hand down the front of her skirts. “This colour looks disgusting on me.” She proclaimed in a surprisingly shrill soprano. “Raziel is said to prefer navy.” She adjusted a pleat in her skirt. “I would never get a personal audience with him if I’m dressed like this.”   
“Would you like to change, milady?” asked one of her companions.  
“No,” snapped the woman. “This dress is fine, although it looks absolutely terrible.”  
“Would—” said another lady, then stopped as her mistress’s head whipped around the garden. Alexus narrowed her eyes and stared at her dress. It matched the woman’s figure perfectly, the colour harmonising with her brilliant long hair.   
“It shouldn't take me long.” Alexus leaned farther over the edge of the balcony, intent on listening in. At her back, she felt the guards watch the group of women, rapt for an entirely different reason.  
“To choose a new dress, milady?”  
“To get Raziel to court me. It won’t be too hard to make him loose interest in her.”   
“In who, milady?”   
“The girl the prince brought back into the castle. I heard he saw her during his return parade in the Lion’s district in the Capital, bit her, and then rode into the city with her unconscious body on his horse. I’ve heard nothing else about her. Not even her name.” The four women lagged behind their mistress and exchanged exasperated looks that Alexus assumed meant the conversation had been held many times before over the past two days. “I shouldn't worry” the woman mused.  
“The prince’s harlot won’t be welcome here.”  
The prince’s WHAT?  
The ladies in waiting stopped beneath the balcony, batting their eyelashes at the guards. “I shall retire until dinner,” The woman declared, flicking a lock of perfectly curled hair behind her shoulder. “I will need the rest” Alexus’s brows rose.  
“Regardless,” the woman continued, striding away, “I shall have to watch my back. Should the little human get in the way—”  
CRASH!  
The women screamed, the guards whirled with their crossbows pointed, and Alexus retreated to the shadows of the library. The small statuette had missed. This time.   
The woman cursed colourfully, so much so that Alexus had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing. The servants swooned and cooed, wiping mud from the woman’s skirts and leather shoes. “Shut up!” The woman barked. The guards, to their credit, didn't let their amusement show. Those that were standing on the balcony looked to Alexus with a mixture of surprise and growing interest.  
The women hurried off as the prince’s harlot returned to the library and picked the fattest book she could find, hauling it towards a cushioned window seat, planning a fruitful day of reading and enjoying her own company. 

An unmeasurable amount of time passed. Alexus looked up from her book occasionally to watch the summer sun roll across the sky, darkening as it began to set over the city, it's rays a dazzlingly beautiful soft orange  as they peeked over the rooftops of the city's landscape in the distance. A servant came at lunch time with a small plate of sandwiches and a glass of water, saying that they were sent by Derora. She thanked them for their trouble, ate the food and continued reading. She was startled from her position well into the later hours of the day by a nearly unnoticeable patter of steps from the other end of the library. Alexus tensed, afraid that she might need to encounter Raziel on her own again, and didn’t let her guard down as she beheld a lean figure dressed in grey and indigo blue - the human slave’s dress code in the palace, as Derora explained to her yesterday - march around from the corner of one of the numerous rows of bookshelves to face her. Alexus looked up, but did nothing more to acknowledge his presence in the second of silence that followed his arrival. He looked about twenty five, maybe younger - and he was very definitely human. The prince seemed to have a particular interest in only enslaving beautiful representatives of every race, because the man could match any fae with his looks. The only clue to his heritage were the multiple, brutal scars across his wrists. The ones that could only be formed from years of wearing shackles. He bowed. “Meson Bohr,” the man said, rising. “Your personal servant. You must be—”  
“Alexus Littlewood” she finished flatly.   
She had time to think about what strategy she was going to take. Being snarly with everyone seemed to be the only one she could stomach accomplishing. Meson raised an eyebrow at her. “Charming, aren't you.” He replied with equal vigour.  
“You’re not so polite yourself”   
Meson approached, ignoring Alexus’s glower as he took the book she put down beside her and examined the cover. “You can read?” He asked, evidently surprised.  
“What? Because I’m a girl I’m not supposed to read and write?”   
Meson put the book down gently. “No, because you are human it’s rare for us to be literate. You are very fortunate to have learned.” He paused for a moment before straightening. “His Highness requests to see you in his study.”  
“Tell him I’m busy.”   
“It wasn't worded as a request, miss” Alexus heaved a sigh before getting up. She tried to act annoyed. In reality, she was terrified of having to face Raziel again. She followed Meson obediently out of the library. They immediately turned to walk towards the right wing of the castle. The one Derora said situated the prince’s quarters. Alexus fiddled with he edge of her apron as she followed Meson through a series of decorated hallways, each seemingly more obnoxiously decorated than the last, before they came to a stop in front of gold plaited, carved bone doors, which Meson opened without knocking to let Alexus enter.   
The study was bigger than the sum of floor plans of Alexus’s whole town put together. Five fireplaces warmed the immense room, floor-to-ceiling windows granting it with a beautiful view of the landscape outside. Plush couches and armchairs littered the area around some of the windows and the fireplaces. Thin bookshelves were placed around the room, holding volumes on literary and historical topics. Four beautifully carved, large mahogany desks were placed around the room, at one of which Raziel was bent over a piece of parchment, carefully writing something whilst occasionally referencing another text. His brown-haired companion from yesterday stood next to him, reading over his writing over his shoulder. To Alexus’s surprise, she saw Derora standing in front of one of the windows, apparently bored out of her mind as she stared at the descending ring of the sun.   
Raziel took a second to look up. When he did, he gave an exasperated gasp and rolled his eyes.  
“Oh no, why would you pick THAT out of all that's available?” Raziel turned to give his companion, who was currently leaning with one of his hands propped against his chair, a pained glance. He gestured towards Alexus the way an exited child would point towards a dog on the street.   
“Look at her, Casimir! This is a disaster!” He turned his head to Alexus. “We really need to sort out your fashion choices, darling, this is just embarrassing.” He swept a hand up and down, effectively pointing out that the terror of his pristine sense of fashion was Alexus as a whole. She furrowed her brows. Casimir didn't bother looking at her, instead he focussed on reading through the letter that had Raziel’s full attention a few moments ago.  
“I don't particularly need your judgement” Alexus remarked, not caring to control her tone. Raziel seemed to ignore her comment and turned to Derora, who moved on to picking at her perfectly manicured nails, sprawled over a couch right next to one of the many large windows, the skirts of her beautiful, free-flowing scarlet dress hiked up to her thighs. The courtesan waiting to be used. Alexus suppressed a shiver. Raziel looked at her like a master would admire his particularly well trained dog.“What do you think?”   
At his question, Derora made a great show of looking up, examining Alexus head to toe and making a face. “It’s a bit dull” she summed up, before continuing analysing her nails. Raziel let out a short bark of laughter and gave Alexus a meaningful look. She, in turn, scowled at him. Suddenly, his expression changed as his gaze fell to the book in her hands. He looked positively delighted.  
“You can read?” He pointed to the book tucked under her arm. Alexus gave him a curt nod in response, considering bashing the book at his face. “What books would you name as your favourites?” She named a few, and he blinked.  
“Well, those are goof choices — for the most part. Any others?” he asked. Alexus bit her lip.  
“Did you get me dragged here just to insult me and discuss literature? If so, I don't really feel like it.” she stated boldly. At her tone, the brown-haired high fae next to Raziel - Casimir - bared his teeth in warning and inched toward Alexus, ready to punish the insult of his prince.  
“No.” Raziel’s voice took on a deeper tone. Casimir halted in his movements immediately and moved back, all in an impossibly graceful and silent movement. In the shock of yesterday’s encounter, Alexus hadn’t been able to examine Raziel’s companion properly. He had a predatory, ethereal beauty and grace to him, the way all high fae did, but his eyes were a surprisingly gentle and light shade of green. In the pale rays of twilight, his handsome face was a more gentle replica of Raziel’s sharp edges. He had freckles - a golden scattering of them over his nose that made his perfect, unscarred face much more interesting to look at. His full mouth seemed constantly in a state of being quirked up to one side, giving him a permanent mischievous expression that Alexus was sure made humans beg for mercy before he had even started killing them. The messy locks of his brown hair gleamed in the fading sunlight as he shifted to lean his full body weight on to the wall behind him, crossing his arms in front of him and inclining his head to Alexus with a slight lift of his brows. Daring her, testing her. “She’s so entertaining, isn't she?” Raziel mused, looking up to make eye contact with his friend, who grinned at the silent joke shared between them. The prince moved his attention to Alexus, furrowing his brows in concentration. The source of his confusion became obvious when he saw Alexus’s right hand.  
“Is that blood?” He looked at her sleeve, his expression unreadable. Alexus stiffened, moving her hand behind her back in what she hoped was not too obviously a defensive gesture.  
“No?” Raziel lifted his perfectly groomed brows at Alexus’s uneasy tone.  
“That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with a question.” He pointed out, lethal amusement dancing across his features. Alexus was strongly convinced that he was contemplating creative ways of killing her as he scanned her body.   
“I cut myself,” Alexus explained through gritted teeth. “By accident”  
Raziel tilted his head to one side. “How?” Alexus took a wild chance.   
“Walked into a table.” A beat of silence passed before Raziel threw his head back and laughed. Alexus pursed her lips, embarrassed. “It’s nice to see someone who can appreciate my humour.” she remarked dryly. Raziel rolled his eyes at her before looking back down at the papers strewn in front of him.  
“If you are annoyed, mousey, just say “Pardon me, you hurt my feelings.”. It’s much nicer that hearing you snap at everyone” the prince declared, not bothering to look up from his papers. “Now,” he looked up at no one in particular, clasping his hands in front of him. “On the subject of the wedding date - would next week on Wednesday be too late?”   
Alexus choked on her drink. She put the cup down, afraid she was going to drop it. Raziel continued, apparently unaware that his future bride was coughing her lungs up in surprise.   
“I would be better to not invite your family, I don't particularly want extra humans scuttling around my castle. Most of the officials will be there, as well as kings and their entourages from Estoccia, Franchia, Gilead and Uqbar. We should have a theme. I do love themed weddings—” he paused, looking at Alexus with mild concern.“Are you even listening?” He enquired after a pause.   
“Yes, it just takes me a while to process so much stupidity all at once.”   
“What would be your answer?” Raziel pushed. Alexus blinked, confused.  
“Escuse me?”  
“It seems like an easy and obvious enough question” he snorted, “Will you marry me?” He enunciated every word like Alexus had trouble understanding him. Rage made her blood run cold. She allowed herself a small, malicious pause.  
“I’m honoured,” she snarled, crossing her hands in front of her, “but I’d rather be pecked to death by a flock of hummingbirds” Casimir growled in warning at the insult but Raziel remained silent, his eyes reading Alexus’s face. Deeper than that.  
“Did you know,” He mused, bracing his elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers, “That it is incredibly rude to disrespect your mate in public?” She felt the sharp, painful pull at the claiming mark slightly earlier than she anticipated. The bastard must have been practicing, because it felt like someone was digging a dagger into her neck. She instinctively lifted a hand to cover her still-sore neck, biting at her lip and staring at the edge of the table to refrain from crying out.   
“Interesting,” His voice lowered to a barely audible purr. “you are so responsive, it makes me wonder…” He paused.  
“It must be difficult for you. Exhausting all of your vocabulary in one sentence.” Alexus snapped. The prince heaved a sigh, more annoyed than angry. She watched Raziel get out of his chair and move around the table, his movements unhurried. Confident. Casual. Her whole body tensed as the now almost-familiar stalking gait moved toward her.  
“You are one insult away from being dead. Are you aware of that?” He came to a stop uncomfortably close in front of her and cocked his head to one side, examining the hand Alexus didn't remove from her neck. Thoughtfully, he ran a finger down the centre of her throat until he reached the neckline of her bodice. The whole room seemed to freeze. From the corner of her eye, Alexus saw Derora following the conversation like a mildly entertaining tennis match, her hands fiddling with the edges of her dress, her face a mask of indifference. Behind Raziel, Casimir watched with cold observation, monitoring Alexus’s stance and speech. Alexus considered her chances, and then flung all reason out of her head and slapped Raziel’s hand away. Besides a slight raise of his eyebrows, Raziel didn't acknowledge her action. A moment passed. Two. Dread filled Alexus’s stomach with dread. And then Raziel spoke, the velvet tones of his voice caressing Alexus in a silent promise. “Me asking you anything is mostly a formality, so is the wedding. If I wanted to take you to bed right now, I am at liberty to do so. I could feed you to the hounds and no one would care.” A cruel pause, assessing Alexus’s reaction. “How do you feel about that?” He asked, his expression one of feral amusement.  
Alexus forgot how to breathe. Her hands threatened to shake. She clasped them in tight fists, her nails digging into her palms painfully. She barely noticed.  
“Pardon me,” she inched forward, closing the short distance that remained to Raziel’s sneering face, and looked up as she formed her last words. “But you really hurt my feelings.” The venom that stung her whisper was evident. She knew the prince heard it. His expression didn't change as she inched her way back from him and saw herself out of the study, brushing past a gaping Meson who was standing at attention by the door.


	7. Darkness Speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little sneak peak into Raziel's mind.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> ~chapter by Anna~

Later, that evening.

_-Raziel-_

 

 

“She’s crying.” Raziel turned to look at his friend, vaguely gesturing towards the closed door in front of him. “What do I do?” His expression was so quizzical, the general didn't bother to contain his snort.  
“Go comfort her” He advised. “You’re the one that’s going to be fucking her senseless in a week. Your mate - Your Problem.” Raziel grinned at Casimir, but ran a hand through his hair nervously.   
“How would I do that?” He asked, tracing the the doorframe with his fingers absentmindedly. Casimir paused, thinking.“Start with talking to her.”  
“What, ravishing ladies to calm them down doesn't work anymore?” Raziel grinned.   
Casimir rolled his eyes and leaned his right shoulder against the wall.“It’s your fault, Raz” he said, giving his friend a knowing look. “You scared her shitless.” Raziel flashed him a warning glare through his lashes, earning Casimir’s reply with a wolfish grin before he gave the closed door a thoughtful glance. “Do you mind if I take the pretty one tonight? All the rest of them are terrible at their job.”   
“Derora? Yeah, Sure. Knock yourself out”  
Casimir began swaggering down the steps, his steps eerily silent despite his brash movements. “You have fun pining. Join us if you get bored” He called over his shoulder, giving Raziel a half-hearted wave. The prince turned to the door, scanning it up and down like it was a barrier in an obstacle course. He leaned his head forward delicately, listening for the sounds of the girl inside the room. It was quiet. It had been quiet for a few moments now. Too quiet. He raised a hand and gently tapped a finger against the lock of the door, which opened noiselessly and swung open to admit him into the room. It became apparent to him why a silence had settled in the unlit bedchamber as he leaned against the archway of the doorframe, afraid to disturb the scene he beheld. Alexus was standing in front of the window - which she had somehow managed to open, gods help him, she was too clever for her own good - and was staring up into the night. There was something infinitely sad about her - sitting on the large window frame with her legs against her chest, the moonlight colouring her hair a glittering, rich golden. No witty comebacks or bold expressions were visible on her face as she looked towards sky.  
He found her beautiful, if a bit strange and sour. There was something in the way that her eyes sparked when she assessed a room, how she looked at something lovely in the landscape. He couldn't understand it.  
She stared out of the window unflinchingly, her narrow form nearly invisible in the shadows of her room. Clouds gathered in the distance and she raised her head. Through a clearing within the swirling mass of grey, a cluster of stars were still visible. She looked towards them with the intense concentration of a dreamer. He couldn't help but imagine that they gazed back at her.  
He shook his head, careful not to startle her. She hated him. There was nothing that could be done about that. He despised himself for caring. What he was doing was his duty, It was for her own protection. However twisted the protection he could offer her might be. He despised himself.   
She had the history of an entire civilisation written under her skin, and she wasn’t even aware of it. He looked towards her one last time, turned around, and disappeared in the shadows.

Though image stayed with him long into the hours of the night: a lonely beauty looking at the night, and the Night that gazed back.

 


	8. Read me

Hey, everyone. It's Anna.

After a year's break from updating this story, this piece of fiction will finally get more regular attention.

**However, it must be noted that I am completely taking over the writing of all following chapters in this work.**

The Instagram account, @throneofglassfanart, will be run by Freja (as always).

I will also be posting other fanfiction on my personal account when I have enough chapters written up and edited. (No use telling you the username now; it's an empty page).

_**If anyone wants to be a beta reader for this work or anything else I write, please leave a comment and I will respond asap.** _

If you are still interested in reading on, thank you for your patience.

Alexus's story will continue on the **1st July 2018**.


	9. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I can explain 
> 
> I was in hospital for the last month. 
> 
> I'm genuinely sorry. 
> 
> Next chapter will be posted on the 15th of August (YES, IT WILL ACTUALLY BE POSTED IT'S WRITTEN UP AND EDITED)
> 
> PS- an hour later, realised I didn't post a trigger warning. I don't know how to say it without spoiling anything, so just be on guard if you are sensitive/impressionable.

The amount of times her encounters with Raziel ended with her swift departure were comical. Alexus had time to consider her behaviour in the two-day gap before she was disturbed from her solitude in her room, which she spent filling the silence with books and food. She came to the inevitable conclusion that should she continue her fruitless quest of resistance, it will end in her own personal downfall. Without the luxury of choice, she must resort to exercising her mind in order to navigate this new life that she had been thrust into. She must do it in her own way. Outsmart the fox.

 

The night of this decision was the first one through which she slept peacefully. There was a purpose to her actions now, her body was humming with it. She always liked a goal. When she woke up, she dressed and padded through the breezy halls of the castle to the servant’s quarters where, after a few short interactions filled with bows and lowered eyes and uncomfortable silences, she found her way to Derora’s room.

 

Alexus’s request seemed to confuse her at first. “You want to go for a walk? In the garden?”

 

“Is it that surprising? I’m bored out of my mind.”

 

“Aren’t you more fond of sulking and staying inside? You weren’t bored of that before.”

 

“You can get bored from sulking.”

 

Derora gave herself a last glance in a tiny mirror hanging on the wall over an ancient chest in her cupboard of a room and sharply closed the door. “Then let’s go.”

 

The long walk to the entrance to the palace gardens was a quiet one. Derora only spoke to utter polite greetings to passing servants or fae, with Alexus shadowing her, memorising the path they took to make sense of the corridor network of the castle.

Once they turned into the light-filled corridor that ended in a set of beautifully decorated French doors, Derora glanced around before looping an arm around Alexus’s shoulders.

 

“So why did our sour little future princess have a change of heart?”

 

Alexus gave her a pointed glance. She decided a truthful answer would be best. “Got tired of being an emotional mess.”

 

“Cut the shit, you just realised you won’t get out of this place and decided to change tactics.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Derora scoffed, opened the glass door and gave Alexus a mock curtesy, inviting her to go out first. It was Sunhigh, the twelfth hour, and the day was warm and the air outside humid.

 

“Is there anything interesting about the garden, or is it just an excuse for ladies of the court to parade themselves?” Alexus asked as she passed the other girl, stepping out into the rays of sunshine, her pale skin instantly gleaming porcelain under the bright rays.

 

“Depends on what you are interested in,” Derora came to a stop beside Alexus, observing the spread of neatly arranged rows of flowers and bushes. “there’s a lot of statues of historical figures, a private garden over there,“ she pointed at a small path leading into a space completely secluded by a thick wall of green “with the statues of all the Princes and their spouses, a decorated shed for the Prince’s hounds. Needless to say, it’s off-limits to anyone other than the gardeners and nobility.”

 

“Then how do you know what’s inside?” Alexus smirked as Derora tensed.

 

It was a well-known fact that the royal family was secluded - even among the fae, as far as Alexus knew, their heritage and origin was shrouded in a degree of mystery and secrecy. Their presence in official meetings, openings, celebrations or wars in the past six centuries has been meticulously noted down and covered in detail by historians, though any written point of time predating that time period seems to have been erased from every book of every library Alexus has had the chance to comb through.

 

“People talk when I ask them to.” Derora replied sweetly. There was silence between them as Alexus let Derora lead them deeper into the garden, following a path that led to a large fountain depicting a satyr sprouting water from a cornucopia he had brought to his lips. They sat down in unison at a bench that stood directly to the right of the path. From their position, they could see a small patrol of guards at the top of the castle walls that the east side of the garden watching them. While Derora shifted, adjusting her skirt to flow elegantly down her frame, Alexus waved enthusiastically at the guards.

 

“They’re gonna shoot at us.” Derora stated calmly, keenly observing the interaction.

 

“What, for waving?” Alexus made a face, turning to face her. “Are they really that idiotic up there?”

 

Derora huffed. “No, Alexus. It’s against their rules. No leisurely interaction with anyone on duty. The privates -“ she pointed at the three guards on the right hand of the patrol who sported navy seals on the breastplate of their uniforms, “ don’t really care. They’re outranked by everyone else, they already feel sorry for themselves. This is free entertainment. However, should there be a generous mix of corporals or lieutenants of some description up there, we’re getting a warning shot.”

 

“Isn’t it their fault they looked?”

 

“The safety of the army overrides the safety of the citizen.” Derora mused dryly. “Welcome to Euthana.”

 

“Euthana?”Alexus enquired absentmindedly, her attention still pointed toward the now slowly retreating guards. A silence stretched for a number of seconds, forcing Alexus to look at Derora in confusion. She found the girl in the middle of a debate - shock and absolute delight danced across her features in a broken mazurka. Finally, she dramatically cleared her throat, smirking to herself.

 

“You know for all the books you seem to read, you can be quite daft.” Derora said. Alexus connected the dots just as the next words were uttered: “Euthana is the name the fae gave to our country, you moron.” She seemed to savour the words, giving Alexus a light poke on her forearm. “It means ‘conquest’ in whatever stupid language they all inherently speak.”

 

Alexus nodded, storing the information. The embarrassment of not knowing something so obvious was overridden by the realisation that despite knowing the written history of her country, she found no text, nor was ever interested to search for, the exact name of her nation.

 

“Is that a silence of despair?”

 

Alexus turned her head to look at the girl next to her. Derora was beaming. The conversation had finally led to something she could latch on to.

 

“It’s a silence of thought.” Alexus replied truthfully. “I was wondering why none of the books I’ve read mentioned the Euthana by name. We were always referred to as ‘The Motherland’. Capital letters, definite article. Always. Why?”

 

“I don’t know” Derora flipped a long lock of dark hair behind her shoulder, “and I don’t much care.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s _boring_ ”

 

“Then what’s interesting?”

 

“Dresses, Art. Boys, girls.” Derora made a particular emphasis on the last two words, fluttering her lashes at Alexus, who snorted at the ridiculousness of it all.

 

“Not my thing.”

 

“Boys or girls?”

 

“Both.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“What do you care?” Derora scoffed at that, leaning back to brace her head against the back of the bench, mumbling something that sounded like “ _no fun around here”_ under her breath.

 

After a short intake of breath, Derora smirked to herself. “Everyone has something they cannot live without. Never fear, I’ll find yours in a bit.” She trailed off when she turned to look at Alexus, whose gaze was roaming over Derora’s face, perhaps with too much alarm. She turned then, albeit casually, to gaze straight at the fountain, feigning indifference. She didn’t need more people digging around her mind. _Not people._ She reminded herself. _Fae._

 

They stayed like that for a while, fuming. Alexus actually growing red under the sun, while Derora seemed intent on waiting out a moment in which she could pounce on the girl for more gossip. A brief exchange about how abnormally hot the weather was for spring was the only thing that interrupted their silence. At one point, Alexus was sure, Derora fell asleep.

 

The light chime of the one o’clock bell from a distant bell tower forced Derora out of her stupor. She looked towards the castle and, going pale, stood abruptly. 

 

“I’m supposed to be serving a party in an hour, with this heat I’ll need another bath-” She brushed her fingers over her forearm gently, as if confirming it was still smooth. “I should show you back to your room.”

 

“But—“ Alexus wanted to protest, but saw that she was in no position to do so. It _was_ warm, the rays of the sun had already turned her arms a delicate shade of pale - almost imperceivable - pink. She rose to her feet, gathering her skirt around her, swiftly following Derora back inside. She looked to the castle windows as she went. The vast structure stood cold and unmoving, no sign of life anywhere near or on it, even though she could spy at least a dozen guards on the three balconies that opened to look onto the garden. 

 

“There are a few tricks you may wish to employ to learn your way around the castle.” Derora said over her shoulder, not looking at Alexus. Her whole demeanour had changed. Alexus wondered what she saw when she turned to look at the castle. “Ways to identify the different doors and turn—“

 

She broke off, and Alexus angled her attention down the hall to the large figure of Casimir marching towards them. Upon seeing the pair, the general gave no indication he noted their existence but stopped, as if waiting. Derora changed visibly. With silky, smooth movements she approached the fae and placed a brazen hand upon his chest, cocking her head to the side to look up at him. As if on instinct, Casimir laced one of his hands around Derora’s waist, still paying her as much attention as to a piece of furniture. He looked towards Alexus, quiet and unwavering until she looked up.

 

“There is a gift for you. In your quarters.” Casimir said in a low voice. No, that wasn’t right. Alexus never heard him speak. That _was_ his voice.

 

“Looking forward to it.” Alexus replied. An emotion crossed Casimir’s solid features. Disappeared. He unwrapped his arm from Derora, who shifted away to a respectable distance. There was an awkwardness to the movement, as if the two weren’t used to sharing the room together.

 

“The prince also requests your attendance of dinner on a daily schedule, 7 hours past noon, starting today.” Casimir stated into the silence. “All other meals may be taken at your leave at any point of the day.” He added formally.

 

“What if I’m not hungry?” Alexus mused.

 

“Then you will attend dinner and be served refreshments.” Casimir replied, his tone ringing with a note of finality.

 

“And if I refuse?”

 

“It would be my solemn advise for you not to.” Alexus looked away then, nodding once. No choice then, lightly put. How can she play this to her advantage?

 

“Fine,” She ground out, “anything else?”

 

Casimir shook his head before dismissing himself with a polite bow towards her, disappearing just as fast as he appeared.

 

There was a loud sigh that echoed through the hall as soon as Casimir’s figure faded out of view. Alexus looked at Derora, who seemed about ready to snap necks, staring in the direction the general just disappeared in. 

 

“Casimir enjoys pretending he can’t tolerate me.” Derora spat out, like the lack of attention was some personal form of insult. “Hate the ones I can’t have a conversation with.” She added under her breath. Alexus had to stifle a giggle, looking at Derora with wide eyes. The other girl rolled her eyes at her.

 

“I tend to joke about it,” She started, sounding defensive, “It’s easier to do it then. If it’s just a joke.” She added, nearly whispering.

 

Alexus felt the need to say something, but found herself at a loss for words. _I’m sorry_ doesn’t cut it when the person in front of you is shattered to pieces every day. She stayed silent. It seemed that Derora expected that - she turned around, grabbed Alexus’s hand, and plunged her into the mess of corridors and halls and rooms of the castle again.

 

“Now, about the network. The castle was initially constructed after the war, with the uppermost and lowermost levels added some centuries later. The top three layers are the ones you need concern yourself with - I don’t imagine you want to go to the lower levels, the walls there are made out of skulls,” Alexus shuddered at the frankness in Derora’s voice. “and it smells like death in there. The only thing you need to remember is that the castle is shaped like a hand. Once you understand what digit you are on, you can find anything else you need with ease.” Derora stretched out her right hand in front of her as they walked, visualising her description. She wiggled her pinkie first.

“The pinkie’s the servant’s quarters. That’s where the kitchens, our sleeping quarters, the menagerie and the slave rooms are. Human servants are at the ground floor, then the half-fae and the fae on higher levels, respectively.

 

The ring finger—” she wiggled it in emphasis, “Is the guest wing. That’s where you’re staying at the moment. This is divided by floor number as well - the higher the floor, the more important the guest. You’re in the tower, which is considered to be the highest privilege the crown may give a guest at this castle.” They turned a corner, jolting Alexus from her concentration on Derora’s words for a second.

 

“The middle finger houses the permanent residents of the castle of second importance - lords, ladies, that snobby sort. Most of the high fae, one or two half-fae commanders. The index finger is a block dedicated to the guard’s quarters, the missionaries, the soldiers and the assassins of the crown. To have the privilege to live there full time is the ambition of every boy that trudges onto the training ground of Captain Kentish hoping to make a name for himself. The thumb, of course, houses the prince and his most trusted guards, servants and slaves. It’s guarded by charms - No one but the individuals the magic allows, individuals who pose or mean no harm to him, are able to pass through. There’s occasionally an execution of some servant or minor lord who is blocked by the charm.” Derora flexed her fingers, pondering over her next words. They arrived at a familiar staircase and began a slow ascend.

 

“Under each finger is a one to two floor compartment of the castle dedicated to everything other than the living quarters. Pinkie- stables and guard’s training rings, ring - baths and steam rooms, the official site for the brothel, a dining room” She ignored Alexus’s wince, “middle- the library that I showed you, the theatre, drawing room, some offices, another dining room, index - more training grounds, a small library dedicated to war and somethingorother, baths and steam rooms exclusively dedicated to them lot, rooms for the girls that come to entertain them, thumb- main dining hall, Prince’s office, the ballroom, the throne room and the chapel. But all these sections end at around this point—” she dropped Alexus’s hand and ran a finger in a semicircle at the bottom of her palm. “—that whole area below is the garden, a small part of which you saw today.” They were at the top of the staircase now, the door to the room open. Alexus faced Derora, still trying to remember all of the information that was presented to her.

 

“Thank you for that.” She said, complimenting it with a small smile.

 

“You’re welcome!” Derora answered cheerily, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. “I need to run off now. I’m free tomorrow morning if you feel like not sulking anytime soon.” She beamed at Alexus, then skipped down the stairs. There was a tightness in her happiness.

 

Alexus turned to face her room. She could see a clean, white basket placed neatly on the nightstand closest to the the entrance. It was perhaps fifty centimetres in length and width, with a delicate handle woven on top.

 

A present. Much too simple. It’s a warning, she was sure of it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what was inside. She moved towards the basket, forgetting to close the door. There was a soft smell of perfume around it - rose, she recognised. It seemed almost poisonous. She wrapped her fingers loosely around the handle at the top and lifted the lid, just enough for light to seep into the interior for a brief look.

 

A blink of blue, a flash of golden hair and the stench of rotting flesh.

 

The world slowed to an ageless, ethereal beat of a temple drum.

 

In the basket…

 

On the floor now, she knocked the basket down…

 

Rolling, stopping to face her, staring at her

 

Alexus moved to the other end of the room, sank into a corner and drew her legs close towards her , her body shaking from cold

 

Cold?

 

Fear.

 

No.

 

Anger?

 

Inexplicable.

 

Primal.

 

Rage.

 

Elodie’s head stayed on the floor for hours until it was taken away by quiet servants.

 

They closed the door.

 

Alexus did not move.

 

Elodie was dead.


	10. Spot the murderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first chapters I have thoroughly enjoyed writing. I have big plans (finally) for this story, and I am mildly impatient to finally make them happen. 
> 
> To everyone who was wondering/asked - this chapter was late because I had to rush my dog into surgery on the 15th. I stayed at the vet's overnight, which resulted in me sleeping the entire next day. 
> 
> My dog's fine now, I'm fine, everything's a bit chaotic but it's good. 
> 
> Next chapter in two week's time, possibly earlier if I write it quickly. Expect a new character to love or hate, more drama, and more Raziel. 
> 
> -Anna

 

Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;

One choked his little self and then there were nine.

 

Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;

One overslept himself and then there were eight.

 

Eight little Soldier boys travelling to Devon;

One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.

 

Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;

One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.

 

Six little Soldier boys playing with a hive;

A bumblebee stung one, and then there were five.

 

Five little soldier boys going in for law;

One got into chancery, and then there were four.

 

Four little soldier boys going out to sea;

A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

 

Three little soldier boys going to the zoo;

A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

 

Two little soldier boys sat up in the sun;

One got frizzled up, and then there was one.

 

One little soldier boy left all alone;

He went and hanged himself

 

And then there were none.

 

There are two types of tired, Alexus supposed. One is a dire need of sleep, and the other is a dire need for peace. In her dreams, she saw Elodie’s bloody head rolling down the steps of the scaffold. She heard the screams and curses of the villages as they turned to see her standing at the back of the square, screaming. Doing nothing to help. She saw the fragile, delicate body of her sister get chucked unceremoniously into a cart. All done by the fae who dragged her into his life. He is a weapon. A killer. Alexus could not forget it. She remembered her father’s words: _You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature_.

 

Three days had passed since her bedroom floor was covered in blood. Three days in which she sat in her room and stared at the ceiling, willing her body to stop supporting her. Any food and drink brought to her she chucked out of the window, followed by the plates and cups in which it arrived. She had figured out the lock mechanism on the window on her first day, which she had promptly broken - allowing her to open and close it whenever she wished. When the headache came on the second day, she welcomed it.

 

_You deserve the pain. You deserve it. Deserve it. She died because of you. You. You. You._

 

The poem came to her mind on the fourth day. A poem that was read out to all humans every Victory Day - sort of like a slap in the face from the ruling High Fae. It felt like an earworm since. She couldn't get it out of her head. Reading it as a mocking poem was too simplistic, it meant something to her now. Why did it start to matter now?

On the evening of that same day, Derora appeared in the room and convinced Alexus nibble on some crackers and drink what she claimed to be strong black tea. It tasted like liquified sandpaper.She brought Alexus fresh clothes and wrapped a soft quilt around her shoulders. When asked why, the young maid looked offended.

 

“What am I supposed to do, let you starve? You're the only person that has been nice to me despite knowing that I fuck faes for a living.”

 

“And anyway,” she continued, brushing away a strand of perfectly curled dark hair from her face. “this place is starved for pretty faces.” She stayed in the room for a while after that, keeping Alexus company while she tried to fall asleep.

 

Alexus woke up the next morning to find her friend asleep, her dark head resting on Alexus’s stomach. Without wanting to wake her, Alexus shifted out off the bed and gently placed a pillow under Derora’s head, and went through a simple wooden sliding door she was told would lead to the bathroom. It was large, shaped into a perfect circle. There was a large bathtub right in the centre, ominously already filled with steaming water. Whatever magic kept the doorless door locked or open must also be present here. It smelled of lavender.

 

Washing was a mundane task. In the once-a-week occasions that she was able to do it comfortably at home, there was a certain degree of rest she allowed herself to enjoy. It was the only time which she had completely dedicated to herself. It made her feel better - fresher, ready to face the coming week. How arduous the task presented itself to be now was disturbing. She was in and out in a short while.

 

She felt lighter. It took a while to comb her hair out. It was down to her collarbone - and tangled like a bird’s nest. She avoided looking too hard at the mirror. Afraid she might see a familiar face.

 

She changed into a, now clean, dress she had worn in her first day at the castle. Writing a quick note on a small square of parchment for Derora was the only thing that halted her swift exit through the handleless entryway, which flung open in front of her with graceful ease.

 

The thought of Derora not being able to read the note only hit her when she had reached the bottom of her staircase, causing her to debate going upstairs and informing the other girl of her intentions. She was stopped from going back upstairs when she caught one of the silent guard’s eyes as he watched her, almost waiting for a moment for her to slip up. Deciding that right now her dignity needed a boost, she hoped Derora wouldn't be too offended if she found the note.

 

As she passed hall after hall, she tried to look confident as she wandered through a still unfamiliar castle network - at one point grabbing a large, green apple from one of the plates full of fruit littered on multiple sets of dainty tables and chairs in almost every hall she came across, taking bites of it as she walked on. When she reached the door to the gigantic ballroom Derora showed her on her first day, she turned right. Towards the mess of hallways that would eventually lead her to the rooms of the head of this damned castle.

 

“Are you lost?” A vaguely familiar voice chirped at her two corridors into the right wing. Alexus whirled to find Meson standing in the middle of the hallway, looking at her with genuine puzzlement. How the hell did she not hear him?

 

“No.” She said simply and turned away, her speed set to a slightly faster pace. She hoped he got the point.

 

Judging by the patter of footsteps behind her, he didn’t. Meson easily matched her brisk pace, probably used to walking quickly to match his masters’ speeds. Alexus decidedly ignored him as they rounded corner after corner in perfect unison, until they reached a comically convenient dead end, in the form of a wall with a large, panoramic window. Both stopped, Alexus unsure of what to do next, and Meson waiting for her to decide.

 

For a moment Alexus considered just standing there until Meson left her alone. There was a lot to see in the landscape beyond the window - endless fields and a section of a pine forest coming into view over a hilltop, all rich in colour and fresh vegetation, gleaming in the sunlight. Then Alexus saw him give her a side glance, making her shove her hands into the pockets of her skirt just to keep them from accidentally slapping the self-content expression off his face.

 

“What was your final destination?” he asked in a cheerful tone. Probably dictated by training to act polite in any situation, but Alexus didn't miss the laughter dancing behind his eyes as she looked at him. “Initially, I mean.”

 

Alexus forced herself not to glare.

 

“Wherever Raziel is.” Calling him ‘Prince’ seemed stupid, since in her presence he had only ever acted like an angry twelve-year-old. The hole that had been growing inside her chest for the past few days yawned wider at the direct mention of his name, which she promptly ignored.

 

“Alright then.” The polite smile on Meson’s face seemed a little strained. “This way!” He said, before energetically heading back down the corridor they just used. Alexus took a moment to place the remains of the apple on an empty plate on yet another fancy table before following him.

 

They walked onwards for so long Alexus was going to request a break, when they rounded a corner and were abruptly met by a large, gold-leaf plated door and an alarmingly large fae guard standing beside it, at attention.

 

Meson extended a hand toward the door and gave her a slight bow before excusing himself and scuttling away in an unknown direction, leaving Alexus and the massive guard alone. Alexus’s feet shifted from place to place as her mind tried to decide what to do. She automatically pulled her hands out of her pockets, wringing them together thoughtfully. She didn't notice she started cracking her knuckles until she cracked her left ring finger and a jab of pain lashed up her arm.

 

Deciding there was nothing better to do, she strode forward, ignoring the guard, and reached a hand out - now curled into a fist - to knock on the door.

 

Or she would have, if a blunt end of a crossbow wasn't used to shove her back from the door. Not enough to hurt, but a condescending enough gesture to set her blood boiling.

 

“I want to speak with him.” She scowled at the guard, pointing to the door. Maybe pointing to things and stating the obvious was how High Fae minds worked.

 

“You can’t.” Came the disinterested reply.

 

“Why?” The guard ignored her, choosing to instead stare ahead of him, his finger now dangerously tight over the trigger of his crossbow. Alexus crossed her arms in front of her and waited, not wanting to leave without an answer. “Why!” She repeated with more force.

 

She didn't care how much of a brat she was going to make herself sound like.

 

 **“** From what I gather, I am to be a Princess in the near future,” The guard’s expression didn’t change from one of a fixed scowl, “and I want to talk to my son-of-a-bitch fiancee. Mind opening the door now?”

 

Before the guard, who had gone quite red by the end of her sentence, could deliver her another blow, the door opened.

 

“By the bones, you have a mouth.” Raziel scowled at her, then turned to the guard. “She’s alright, Valyrian. I’ll take it from here.” He stepped away, motioning Alexus to come in.

 

She did so and stopped just out of reach of Raziel.

 

The room was opulent, more so than the rest of the castle. It was evident why when Alexus’s gaze landed on the bed on the far eft hand side. This was a bedroom. And a private dining area, apparently. Right in front of her stood a beautiful mahogany dining table groaning under the weight of a generous breakfast. The volume of food was enough to feed Alexus and her family for weeks. The generous amount of sunlight pouring over it from the large windows occupying the wall opposite made the feast seem even more enticing.

 

“Sit. Eat.” Raziel motioned towards the table, taking a seat at a chair at its left end, back facing the windows and the sunshine outside.

 

Alexus moved to sit at a chair opposite him. “I’m not hungry.” She declared, leaning forward and bracing a hand on the table in order not to topple into the chair from fatigue.

 

Raziel made no comment on her statement, simply leaning back in his chair, torso open, his left hand stroking the rim of a steaming cup of - based on the smell - tea.

 

Everyone had their own demons. One of Alexus’s was sitting in front of her, looking at her emotionless face with a grin on his own.

 

“Why did you kill her?” She finally asked. It was easier if she didn't say her name.

“Why shouldn't I have?” Raziel replied. His tone suggested they were having a pleasant conversation about the weather.

 

“She was innocent.”

 

“She was a human.”

 

“Those things are almost always mutually exclusive.”

 

“We don't see it that way.”

 

“Who’s ‘we’?” Alexus asked, voice monotone. Raziel shook his head in reply, smiling, leaving Alexus with yet another unanswered question.

 

“Is that it? That conversation ended as quickly as it started, didn't it.”

 

Alexus tried not to roll her eyes. She moved a teacup towards her, reached for a teapot sitting on a metal stand over brightly glowing candles. It took her a second to adjust the weight of it - it couldn’t weigh that much, it was really quite small - but her muscles seemed to find contraction too foreign an action to follow her wishes. She poured the tea into the cup, placed the teapot onto its stand. As she picked up a spoon, idly wondering if there was any honey on the table to add to the tea, Raziel pushed a small, ornamented box towards her. She nearly recoiled from the gesture, remembering the basket. 

 

“Why are you glaring at me?” Raziel enquired idly, taking a sip from his teacup.

 

“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.” Alexus replied truthfully.

 

Raziel smirked at that.

 

“That’s the honey.” Raziel took the lid off the box, revealing the rich, golden substance within. Good honey. Not the dark, flat tasting shit you could get in the market back at home. It even smelled amazing. The prick read her, again.

 

Alexus reached in and gathered a generous amount with her teaspoon, then carefully guided it into her tea. She stirred the mixture, watching the sticky substance dissolve.

 

A plate filled with slices of various fruits was pushed towards her. She looked up at Raziel, not so much in question as to see the look on his face. It was impassive. Unreadable. Too unreadable. His eyes scanned to either side as if he was reading an invisible book.

 

“Alright. You’re not going to tell me anything about my sister now.” Alexus concluded, picking up a grape from the plate. “Then tell me about the bond thing. Because I know jack shit and I’m not thrilled that you seem to know what I think.”

 

Raziel looked at her sceptically. “Don’t call it ‘the bond thing’. It is the Bond.”

 

Alexus spread her arms dramatically in an overacted shrug, comically leading Raziel to sit up straight and continue.

 

“Can’t believe they don’t — the bond is a connection. Between a male and a female. It can only occur in biological mates.” He watched Alexus nod, confirming she already was aware of this. “It can only be formed by a bite, one that is made hard enough to draw blood. That leaves a scar - and a lasting scent mark. So to any male or female of a race that is capable of sensitive smell, the scent of the male is forever entwined with the bitten female’s.

The bond itself gives mates the ability to read each other’s emotions. In stronger bonds - thoughts. It is one of the most powerful bonds one yearns to form, and one of the most devastating to lose.”

 

Alexus nodded some more, slightly at a loss for words. She started lathering what she hoped was goat’s cheese on a cracker with a bread knife, just to keep her hands busy. The next question she wanted to ask was not one she really wanted to know the answer to. _How does one break the bond?_ And another question she knew he won’t give the answer to now but she will eventually find out. _Why me?_

 

“I’m guessing race does not matter.”

 

“Yes, as you already know, there is no limit to one’s race.”

 

“Then why me? There must be tons of thousands of better candidates.” 

 

As Alexus predicted, Raziel stayed silent. She took the time in which he played dumb to eat a few strawberries. They tasted intoxicating - she almost wanted to run home and share one with her father. They had only ever seen strawberries in picture books.

 

“What is it like? Living in a small village, as a human.” The prince enquired suddenly. “Your village, I was informed, is located close to a forest. I assume most of the human population hunt?”

 

She raised her eyebrows slightly in silent question.

“We both know we’re not keen on talking about one particular topic, it would be appropriate to talk about something neutral.” Raziel pointed out, relaxing his posture once again, popping a sugar cone into his mouth.

 

Alexus followed the movement, thinking about his question. She wasn't quite sure why she was considering answering.

 

“Trespassing in the woods is illegal on the Demifae sector, though the human’s side was always too thick with vegetation and virtually useless.” She summed up. “Most people didn't risk to go in there to salvage anything anyway, because of predators. More people would risk it if they had proper weapons.” Something changed in the prince’s face, though Alexus couldn't place his current expression to any particular emotion. She decided to take a leap of faith.

 

“Why can you read me but I can’t?”

 

“Your magic — yes, you have magic dear, don’t look so scandalised — your magic is too raw and out of control for you to focus on the bond. I wager you don’t even feel it.”

 

Alexus frowned, looking at her hands. Then she stopped looking at them, since her entire body seemed distant and foreign.

 

“Aren’t signs of magic supposed to show themselves in early childhood?” She mused, remembering a book she read on the matter.

 

“Not if its repressed. Not if its powerful” Raziel gave her a meaningful look.

 

She gave him a scowl through half lidded eyes. “Powerfu — What are you on, lithium?”

 

Raziel chuckled at that, taking a long drink from his cup. She took a tentative sip from her teacup, finding the tea sweet and warm. Her throat seemed to need to remember how to swallow. After a few sips and a successful consumption of half of the cheese and cracker combination, Raziel finally shifted forward in his chair. Alexus took note of his paralinguistics as he did. There was tension in every movement, restraint that she couldn’t place to any human emotion. He seemed in agony without a cause.

 

“Why were you sad?”

 

Alexus gave him a double take. Was he genuinely this moronic all the time? “It’s really not that hard a guess.”

 

“No, no,” he rolled his eyes as if he was trying to lecture a particularly dumb child, “When you talked about the woods. Why were you sad?” He looked over her, his gaze shifting over her whole body. “Is it that mentally challenging a question for you to be startled by it?”

 

Alexus checked herself, keeping her face a mask of indifference.

 

“Do you mind not doing that?”

 

“Doing what?” He gave her a mocking look of surprise.

 

“Reading me. Knowing what I’m…” She gestured vaguely towards herself, at loss for words to describe the power she knew Raziel gained with the bite, the bond.

 

Raziel was quiet for a moment. “You didn't answer my question.” He urged her impolitely.

 

Alexus’s eye roll wasn't at all exaggerated. She drained her tea instead of answering, swallowing down the colourful insults that sprung in her mind.

 

“I… I’ve always had ideas of how to make our village a safer place, maybe a better one to live in. I was never listened to because I’m a girl.”

 

“Female” Raziel corrected. Alexus worked on eating the other half of the apple slice as a way of acknowledging his words, “Is that it?” His face twisted into a look that clearly illustrated how disgusted he was by her petty little problems.

 

Alexus didn't bother holding back a smug smile. “Did you think I was going to go off on a monologue?”

 

“Would you have shared more if you were talking to someone else?” Raziel enquired.

 

Alexus scoffed at the wording. “Of course not.”

 

“What about Derora?”

 

“About Derora” Alexus found herself saying. “where does she come from?”

 

“You’re just reflecting my questions with your own, that’s not fair.”

 

“Start answering mine and I might stop doing it.” Alexus countered. “And nothing in this particular situation is fair on my side, I might add.”

 

Raziel took a moment, stroking the rim of his teacup once again. Alexus noted his hands - long fingers, desirable for a musician or a thief. Delicate, almost. Apart from the scars that peppered almost every surface. A token of too many battles won.

 

“Derora was born just outside of Etterdam, the closest we allow humans to enter our sacred city. Her mother was a whore, her father remains unknown.” He looked up, shaking his head a little. “There is nothing more to know about her. She was taken into my service when she was ten when her village was being searched for a fugitive, from then on her life has been restricted to this castle.”

 

“Don’t you find it repulsive?” Alexus blurted out. Raziel looked at her, waiting for elaboration.

“That you keep people against their will to serve you?”

 

“Is it not a kindness? Humans need a purpose. It came to me when I was attempting to classify their species and I realised they are not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment, but humans do not. They move to an area and multiply and multiply until they consume every natural resource and the only way to survive is to spread to another area. There are other organisms on this planet that follow the same pattern. Can you propose what it is?”

 

Alexus’s stomach sank because for some sick reason she saw his point. She mumbled the answer.

“Yes,” Raziel continued, “viruses. Human beings are a disease, cancer to this world. They are a plague and we are the cure.”

 

“Just because you don’t like something, there is no reason to deduce that it is useless.”

 

“Interesting use of ‘it’”

 

“I am simply making an informed observation, don’t try to distract me. Argue your point.”

 

“Are you tired of living?”

 

“I’m tired of being treated like a child. I am not afraid of the truth.” Alexus stared at Raziel, leaning in a little. “Why. The. Fuck. Did. You. Kill. El —” she recoiled at the name, a hard lump she couldn’t speak through forming in her throat.

 

“You’re a vision, aren’t you.” Raziel leaned in, mimicking Alexus’s pose. “I have found, in my eons of experience, that there is a certain range of emotions that humans tend to display that act to their significant disadvantage. Bitterness, Alexus, is a paralytic. Love is a far more vicious motivator. Like the love you have for your darling sister: unwarranted, isn’t it? And yet it drove you out of your little trance. You’re alive now.”

 

Alexus’s breath hissed through her clenched teeth. “That’s one of the cruelest motives to murder I have ever heard of.”

 

That wasn’t true - not completely. Her horror at his crime was lost at the admiration of his skill, his intelligence. She hated herself for it. How quickly she stopped grieving, how quickly sadness was replaced by - by nothing. She was empty. Void of emotion.

 

“Cruel is a matter of perspective.” Raziel looked down at the floor, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I gave you your time to grieve. Now, you come to me with newfound energy. What I ordered my men to accomplish pales in significance to the impact it has on you.”

 

“So this is simply a power play.”

 

“Now you begin to understand.” Raziel grinned at her. Alexus wondered what would happen if she backhanded him; his face was so tantalisingly close.

 

“You’re a psychopath” she sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose with closed eyes. She had forgotten how cruel his face looked. Raziel raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at her.

 

“I prefer the term ‘creative’.”

 

“Certifiably insane.” He chuckled at that.

 

“I didn't know you get a certificate for being mad, is that just a human thing? Do they give crazy people special papers as a gift? I did wonder why you were so easy to kill in the war. So disorganised. It’s because your leaders must have all been lunatics.”

“Don’t bullshit me. Go read a history book - four kingdom’s worth of armies against one. It was never going to be a fair fight.”

 

The only sound that echoed in the room was the clink of Raziel’s teacup against its plate as he set it down.

 

“Don’t get nasty now,” Raziel tutted. “I would prefer my mate to be able to control herself in social situations.”

 

“I am not _‘your’ anything._ ”

 

“That’s not what I think.” Raziel leaned back in his chair, examining Alexus closely. She glared back at him. “I think that this is my castle,”he began. “ I think that this is my kingdom. And I think, darling, that my opinion here is valued vastly greater than your own.” He , bringing a scar-flecked hand towards the delicate handle of his teacup once more. “On that note. Aside from dinner, there will be another obligatory task, the participation in which I will drag you into whether you like it or not.”

 

“I don’t give a dying moose’s last shit what —”

 

“You will be expected at the training grounds every day an hour past dawn.” Raziel raised his voice, cutting Alexus’s protest off. “If you refuse to attend or are late, you will complete your training nonetheless but will not receive any food until the next day. Judging by the fact that you ate half of the table during our short discussion today, you will not need any more persuasion.” He glanced at over the table critically. Alexus finished chewing the last bits of an apple slice she didn’t realise she was even eating.

 

“And what is the nature of these training sessions?”

 

“Something you will find exponentially useful, I assure you.” Raziel finished helpfully, with a meaningful glance towards the door. An effective dismissal by a male never faced by discomfort or disobedience.

 

With her last strain of energy and emotion, Alexus stood up and braced her hands on the table, looking at Raziel.

 

“I hate you.” she said matter-of-factly.

 

“Why? I’m lovely!” He beamed up at her. She ignored him, snatched a blueberry off the top of his freshly cut piece of cake and made her way towards the door. As her hand brushed the doorknob, she saw a cake - the slice of cake she just committed burglary on, now perching on a bigger plate - float in front of her and purposely land in her outstretched hand.

 

“I don’t like eating things touched by human hands.” Raziel said, in a tone implying aggravation at the need for the explanation.

 

“More for me, then.” Alexus called over her shoulder, letting the door click shut behind her. She wasn't sure why, but for the first time in days she finally felt hunger. Real, animalistic drive towards sustenance - so strong she started eating the cake with her hands as she made her way along to her room by memory, helpful Meson never appearing in her path again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this chapter was a bit entertaining/interesting? I tried to include explanations for the world of this piece of fiction that wasn't properly explained beforehand.
> 
> The poem is a direct quote from Agatha Criste's "And then there were none". Brilliant book, would highly recommend a read if you are into crime and mystery. 
> 
> Also, Etterdam is the name of the Capital. I read way too much Leigh Bardugo and have no creativity :)
> 
> I will be grateful for any reviews/advice/just thoughts in the comments!
> 
> -Anna


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